Us Against The World
by January Lily
Summary: Sisfic! Campbell "Elle" Winchester, is the younger sister of Sam and Dean. Their lives are anything but normal...unless one considers ganking ghosts for a living "normal." The Winchesters are forced to come together for a common cause, but whoever said family reunions were supposed to be enjoyable has never met the Winchesters. Starts Season 1.
1. Going to California

_**Us Against the World**_

By January Lily

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_Through chaos as it swirls_

_It's us against the world_

~Coldplay~

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**Chapter 1: The Road Goes on Forever**

The streetlights flashed by overhead as a black Impala roared down the surprisingly near-empty highway just outside of New Orleans, Louisiana. Inside the car, Dean Winchester used the steering wheel as a fake drum set with one hand, jamming out to Led Zeppelin's _Babe I'm Gonna Leave You_ while his passenger slept curled up in a ball beside him. That passenger was Campbell Winchester, more commonly known as Elle, his little sister. Well, she wasn't quite so little anymore being twenty-one and all, but he would never tell her otherwise. It was his job to look after her. Always had been always would be as long as he had a say in the matter. Then again, he actually had two people he was supposed to be looking after but Sam was a different story, a story that he was on his way to go change the ending to. Dean and Elle had just finished up their _job_ in New Orleans and they were now headed across the country toward Stanford because despite however things had gone down two years ago, they needed Sam. He hadn't been upfront with Elle about their new job because it wasn't really one of their "normal" jobs. No, this job included looking for their missing father. Neither he nor Elle had been able to get ahold of their father for the past couple days and that worried him. Hence, the road trip to get Sammy. They were going to need all the help they could if they intended on finding John Winchester, especially given the family business. Their family business wasn't exactly normal, unless one considered hunting demons, ghosts, and anything else of the supernatural persuasion normal. Elle rolled over onto her other side and barely opened her eyes, squinting in Dean's general direction. She had attempted to say something to him, but Dean couldn't hear her over his Led Zeppelin jam so he turned the music down.

"You said somethin'?" Dean said as he flashed a grin toward his sister.

"How much farther until the motel?" Elle asked hoarsely before she began to examine the surroundings that the car was passing.

"Not goin' back there. I—um—I already found us another job."

"When did you have time to find one?"

"Sometime after burnin' the body and before you woke up."

"I wasn't sleeping. I was just sitting there with my eyes closed."

"I probably should have told my paid lady friend to be quieter then."

"That's disgusting! You did that with me in here?"

"If you were actually awake you'd know, now wouldn't you?"

"Fine, I was asleep."

"And there was no curbside lady in the backseat, at least not yet."

"Perv."

Dean chuckled before reaching his right hand across the car to ruffle his sister's dark hair. Elle's reaction made it all worth it as she scrunched her face and swatted at his hand before Dean withdrew his hand and placed it back on the wheel. She tried to smooth her hair back into place, but she already had bedhead from sleeping which was going to make things much more difficult. Elle unbuckled her seat belt and turned around to grab her bag from the backseat. With a yank, her bag went flying to the front seat before she started to dig through it. Most of its contents wouldn't typically be found in a person of her age's bag; but the compact mirror she pulled out at least gave her some sense of normalcy. She used the mirror to examine her pathetic appearance. Her strikingly blue eyes looked back at her as she looked-over the scratches and newly formed bruises on her face. Being bait always came with a risk. She was just thankful that Dean had salted and burned that damn ghost's bones before it had managed something worse on her. With a sigh, she dropped the compact mirror back in her bag before she put her seatbelt back on and stretched out, placing her socked feet on the dashboard. Dean gave her a look to which Elle responded with an eye roll before Dean began swatting at her legs.

"Get your smelly ass feet off my baby."

"My feet don't smell."

"Have you taken a whiff of them recently?"

Elle rolled her eyes in her brother's direction again. Dean may give her crap all the time, but that was the nature of their relationship and she wouldn't change it for anything. Then again, he had always been the one to take care of her. Even when she was younger, it was always Dean. He had been the one to her. He had taught her about life and hunting, of course. In most senses of the word, Dean was more like a father to her than a brother. Thankfully, for most of her growing up years, Sammy had been around to keep her from picking up on too many of Dean's bad habits. Elle looked out the window once more; she couldn't help but feel some contempt toward Sam. He had just up and left them…left her. That night hadn't put her in the easiest of situations either. Sam had wanted her to go with him to California and she had desperately wanted to; but like Dean she also had a misguided sense of family honor. She had been so torn that night between going with Sam or staying with Dad and Dean. Either way, she knew she and someone else was going to get hurt. Her reason for staying she had never once voiced to anyone. No, she kept her real reason buried with herself because otherwise the flaw in her logic could easily be pointed out. With a sigh, Elle ran her fingers through her long hair when her stomach began to growl. Dean laughed at her and made some dumb joke about it before he promised to stop for a burger at the first exit they found.

Ten minutes later, Elle was practically devouring her burger in Dean's car while they sat in the parking lot. God, she had missed having a good burger. Dean claimed that she ruined the masterpiece by putting French fries on it as a condiment; but Elle could care less. Beside her, Dean too, was shoveling his food down so that they could get back on the road. He had wanted to eat while he drove, but Elle _persuaded_ him not to and by persuaded he meant that she whined about the one time they almost went in the ditch. He couldn't have helped it. Besides, to accuse him of ever purposely trying to harm his baby was obscene. Thankfully, Baby didn't have ears to hear Elle's whining. Dean shoved a handful of fries in his mouth before he slurped it down with his soda, but what he would give to have a beer right about now. He finished before Elle did and put the car into drive before heading out of the parking lot. Elle continued to eat, rather quietly with an expression on her face that Dean knew only meant trouble. So, he attempted to distract her.

"Why don't you give Dad a call when you're done?" Dean said smoothly.

"He's not going to answer, Dean," Elle said between bites.

"Doesn't hurt to try," He said more for the sake of argument than actually believing John Winchester would answer.

"We've _been_ trying."

"We'll just have to try harder."

"And how exactly does one 'try harder'? That expression doesn't make any sense."

"Just do it, damnit."

Elle looked over to her brother suspiciously, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she just continued eating her food as Dean began humming another Led Zeppelin song. Elle could _appreciate_ Dean and her dad's music, but it wasn't her particular favorite. No, Dean would mock her for the type of music she liked to listen to; then again, he mocked anyone who didn't have his taste in music. When Elle finished eating, she crumpled the wrappers and threw them in the bag to be tossed later. Dean handed her his cellphone. She accepted his phone, despite having her own phone. They both knew that if John Winchester was going to answer anyone's call, it would be Dean's and the fact that he hadn't been answering should be saying something to them. Elle hit re-dial on the phone but it went straight to voicemail. She quickly ended the call and tossed Dean's phone back at him.

"Surprise, surprise," Elle said cynically.

Dean knew better than to say anything when his sister got like this, but that didn't stop him from being sorely tempted. Thankfully, it was Elle who spoke up again, but this time she changed the subject to one he wasn't prepared for: Mom.

"Dean, what was Mom like?" Elle asked innocently.

"Wh—what?" Dean stammered.

"Mom? You know the woman who—"

"I know who Mom is."

"Well, tell me something about her."

"It's not like I remember much. I was only four when she-"

"Please?"

"Um—well—let's see here. She had blonde hair and blue eyes—"

"C'mon, I already know that from the picture you have. Something else."

"Son-of-a-bitch Elle, you didn't let me finish."

"I think I'd actually be considered a daughter-of-a-bitch, for the record."

"Yeah, yeah, but as I was saying you have her eyes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And that's all you're going to tell me? What about what was her favorite color? Or her favorite flower? Her favorite song? Favorite dessert? There are just too many questions that I haven't gotten any answers to. I'm twenty-one years old and I think I deserve to know something about my mother."

"What's with twenty questions about Mom?"

"I—I don't know."

"I know for fact that's a lie, so don't even try and go there."

"I—I just want to know her so bad. I want to know if she'd like me. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if I'm as big of a disappointment to her as I am to Dad."

There it was, the truth; the elephant in the room—well, car really. Dean exhaled slowly trying to carefully calculate a response to his sister's revelation.

"You're not a disappointment to Dad."

"Don't placate me."

"You know better than to use the big fancy words with me when I'm trying to help you. School wasn't my thing and I was never college material."

"Neither was I. I didn't even try because I thought it would make Dad happy, especially after Sam. Everything I've done with my life has never been enough for him. Did you know that never once in my life do I remember him saying that he loved me?"

"Elle, Dad's just dad, nothing to get all wound up over."

"You don't get it Dean. I see the way Dad looks at you. Hell, even Sam, whom he said he didn't want to see again. He doesn't look at me like that. He looks at me like I'm some sort of abomination from hell that doesn't deserve to live; like he's always waiting for the other shoe to drop with me or something. For once in my life, I just want to be enough and for him to say the scary "L" word."

"I promise you, that when we find him; you'll get whatever it is you've been looking for. First things first though, we actually need to find him."

Elle wasn't sure that she believed Dean's words, but she knew that Dean believed them and when Dean set his mind to something, he did something about it no matter what the consequences. He had proved his loyalty time and time again. Whatever he did, it was always in the best interest of their family, no matter how stupid. Despite his rough exterior, her brother was a softy on the inside as far as she was concerned, although Dean would never 'fess up to that. Elle could feel her brother's eyes on her, waiting for her response. If he was going along with it for her sake, then she might as well too.

"So, what's this plan of yours?"

"Remember that job I was talkin' about?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"The job involves picking Sammy up."

Elle couldn't help but scoff. There was no way in hell that Sam was going to go with them. He had his perfect life at Stanford. A life that she quite often envied. But she knew what Dean was thinking. In order to find Dad, it was going to take the three of them putting their heads together and working alongside each other. Even though his hunting skills might be a little rusty, Sam was pretty damn intelligent and a third set of eyes to discover whatever John Winchester had been up to couldn't hurt.

"You know that he's never going to go for it since he's gone all big-shot Stanford guy now," Elle commented.

"It's Dad, he'll listen to reason and family honor," Dean responded.

"Cute names for your fists, but I don't think a wrestling match with him until he agrees is going to quite work."

"Always worked before."

"When Sam was like half your size. You're the _little_ brother now."

"Shut up. I'm not as little as you are shorty."

"I'm not short, I'm fun-sized. But enough about me, you need a better plan for Sammy if you expect him to come along."

"And what do you suggest?" He scoffed with an obvious helping of sarcasm.

"Let me butter him up a little first. The helpless little sister thing always works on you and if I remember correctly it used to work on him."

"Helpless, my ass; Sam would never fall for that and neither do I."

"How much are you willing to bet?" Elle questioned as she held out her hand for Dean to place his wager.

"Not much." Dean muttered with a glance over to his sister. "So what exactly are you going to do that's magically going to get him to come along?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of telling him that I'm fighting with you and I need a place to crash…the helpless part. Then you come along and say that we need to go find Dad, yadda, yadda, and I say that I won't go with you unless Sam does because I can't stand being around your big fat ugly face. Then he's guilted into coming along so that he can keep the peace between us."

"Believable, I suppose; except the part about my big fat ugly face. My face is adorable."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I will because it's the truth and you know it."

The conversation between Dean and Elle lulled. For the next hundred miles or so they sat in silence, a comfortable silence. That was one thing Elle liked about her relationship with Dean; they didn't always have to be talking to be comfortable with each other. You know, sometimes there are those people in life where you always have to keep them talking in order to know where you stand with them? Well, Dean wasn't that way for Elle. They could ride together for hundreds of miles without uttering a single word to each other and yet, she knew that Dean usually wasn't angry with her. Besides, if he was angry with her his facial expressions gave him away. Right now, they were both content to sit in the Impala in silence as Elle drifted back to sleep while Dean continued to rock-out to his music. When Elle finally woke up again, they were somewhere in Texas, the seemingly endless state. It seemed like every time they drove through the damn state it seemed to get larger. Elle stretched her arms before looking to her brother who attempted to stifle a yawn which caused him to jerk the wheel toward oncoming traffic. Dean and Elle's eyes widened as Dean quickly jerked the wheel the other direction to get them back on their side of the road. The sound of a car's horn passed by them as Dean rubbed at his eyes.

"Pull over, you shouldn't be driving," Elle commanded.

"I'm fine," Dean grumbled.

"We've been up since freaking six a.m. _yesterday_ morning."

"This is nothing compared to when-"

"You need some sleep. God forbid that you actually let yourself be human."

"I'll just pull over at the next town in a few miles."

"Shows how well you were paying attention; that last sign said that the next stop isn't for over seventy miles, you loser. Pull over and I'll drive for a couple of hours."

"You hate driving."

"Would you prefer to get to Sam's so we can find Dad or that we become road kill, which would be especially pathetic considering what we do for a living."

Dean remained stubborn with his hands gripped firmly to the wheel. She knew how stubborn he could be, but having lived with him her whole life, she also knew his weak spots.

"If you're not going to think about my welfare, then at least consider Baby's and how devastated you'd be to see her twisted and smashed frame splattered with my guts. Think of her shattered windshield, with my blood—and dashboard with-"

"I get your point and quit being so graphic around Baby. You're gonna upset her if you keep talkin' like that and she ain't gonna work right for you."

Elle rolled her eyes as Dean pulled over to the shoulder of the road rather reluctantly. He looked over to her before tapping the steering wheel. Dean then started to go over all the "rules" about driving his baby. Honestly, he was the one who had taught her how to drive and with this car nonetheless. He was too overprotective, but then again, Elle if he was this protective over his car it only showed how much more he'd do for his family. When Dean was done explaining things, which Elle hadn't paid any attention to, he opened the driver's side door and stepped outside. Elle pulled on her red converse sneakers before she mimicked his motion as she opened the passenger side door and stepped outside into the breeze and the stars illuminating the night's sky. She stared up at the immensity above as she heard Dean's footsteps in the gravel. His figure drew closer and closer to her, practically towering over her. Compared to both of her brothers, Elle was tiny. Both of them were well over six feet tall, while she reached five feet two inches on a good day…if she rounded. At least something from third grade math came in handy. Elle stretched herself to her full height when her brother stopped beside her.

Dean held the keys out in front of her which she snatched from his hand. Normally, she'd have some sort of witty response about him actually handing the keys over to her, but she didn't want to press her luck. Dean needed some sleep, not to mention that she didn't want to die on the freaking highway. Elle adjusted her blue plaid shirt before she walked over to the driver's side. Looking through the window, she could see Dean practically sulking, but she knew that he knew she was right…if that made any sense. She chuckled at her brother's expense before she slid into the driver's seat. Part of the reason she knew Dean hated her driving is because she had to readjust every little thing. When she had finished adjusting the rearview mirror she turned toward her brother.

"So now what do I do?" Elle asked.

"Tell me you're kidding," Dean groaned.

"I'm kidding. Relax. Get some sleep."

"Just stay on this road and wake me up in exactly two hours. Whatever you do, don't get off this road."

"You don't trust me, do you?"

"You're terrible with directions, even worse when I'm sleeping."

"I'm not _that_ terrible."

"Do you remember when we were driving to go gank that ghost in Winona, Minnesota? You took us to Iowa."

"I missed one turn and we were still three miles from actually getting into Iowa if you're getting technical with me. Besides, it wasn't the end of the world."

"Just stay on the road."

"Fine."

Elle put the car in drive and carefully maneuvered the car onto the empty road. She had driven about five minutes when her hand reached to adjust the radio. She could practically feel Dean's intense glares as she messed with his music, but she stopped fiddling with it when _Wake Me Up When September Ends_ came from the speakers. Elle began to sing along as Dean turned toward her with his peeved glance. She attempted to ignore his glares, but it was futile.

"You've got to be shitting me," Dean growled. "What's this crap?"

"It's Green Day. They're been around for a long time. I figured they'd be a compromise between your music and mine," Elle argued.

"Well, this is shitty music, beyond shitty even. They sold-out and for what? This crap? Change it back."

"Ah-ah-ah, I don't think so. You're going to follow your own damn rule, that you so frequently remind me of. Driver picks the music and…hmm…how does that go again?"

"Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole," Dean muttered. "But how the hell do you expect me to sleep with this crap on?"

"Peacefully," Elle smirked toward her brother.

"As my ears bleed."

Dean curled up on his side. His position didn't look comfortable, but Elle wasn't sure his tall frame could find a comfortable position to begin with. As another pop song came on the radio, Dean's hands moved over his ears. With a smirk on her face, Elle leaned over and turned the radio off. She would wait until Dean was asleep before she resumed her _crappy _music jam. Dean seemed to relax more as the car grew silent. Elle kept her eyes focused on the road as Dean's soft snores began to fill the car. She called Dean's name to make sure that he was out and when he didn't respond, she turned her music station back on, but kept the volume turned down fairly low so that _today's hits_ wouldn't wake Dean up. She fully intended on letting Dean sleep longer than two hours, but his internal clock must have known when his two hours was up because his eyes fluttered open and he turned Elle's music off. Elle pulled over before she and Dean switched positions once more: Dean back to driving and Elle back to riding shotgun. Of course this meant that Dean's music filled the car once more.

When they crossed the border into California, Elle's stomach began to churn. She had been so confident about her plan to get Sam earlier, but would he even want to see her? It had been complete radio-silence between the two of them since he had left. But more than that, she was stubborn and she wasn't so sure she had forgiven him for leaving her. Why did emotions and family have to be so complicated? He was her brother, she should be glad that she was seeing him again; but she couldn't let herself completely go there. Yet, here Dean was, acting like Sam had been gone for nothing more than a weekend or something. But she needed to ignore these feelings. She needed to put on a happy face and push those feelings aside, something that she had already been doing for years. This time shouldn't be any different…or at least she hoped it wouldn't be. Dean interrupted her thoughts when he asked her to pull out a piece of paper with Sam's address out of the glove compartment. Why the hell they called these things glove compartments was beyond her, but nonetheless, she handed Dean the address.

The Impala shifted into park outside the building where Sam lived. It looked…_nice_, Elle supposed. Well nice considering how they had grown up on the road, never staying in one place for long. Nice to have a place to call _home._ She didn't voice her thoughts aloud though, because while they should have been happy Sammy had gotten out, she knew that both she and Dean (whether he'd admit it or not) were somewhat jealous that he had a home. Dean cleared his throat, so Elle turned toward her big brother.

"Out you go," Dean said. "You have one hour to get him in this car before I go barging in there."

"You're actually letting me do this?" Elle asked in a tone of surprise.

"I have to hit the head."

"Which is going to take an hour?"

"You can't rush digestion."

"You're full of crap."

"Not for long." Dean said with a wink. "You walked into that one and you know it."

Elle shoved her brother away from her in disgust before slipping her shoes back onto her feet once more. She stepped out of the car before she pulled her old Jansport over-the-shoulder backpack over her head before she slammed the car door shut. Dean awkwardly waved at her with a stupid grin on his face like he was dropping her off at her first day of school but she shooed him to drive away with her hand motions. She carefully climbed the stairs until she came to the door to Sam's place. This was it. She rapped twice on the door before lowering her hand. There was no going back now. Elle blew a stray tendril of hair from her face before she decided to throw her long dark hair up into a messy bun. She began to grow impatient. What if Sam wasn't even here? Maybe he moved and they had the wrong address? Part of her wanted to dash and then whoever was inside could chalk it up to a teenage prank, but she saw a light flicker on. Moments later the door opened, revealing a girl with long blonde hair dressed in a Smurfs shirt with a toothbrush in hand.

"Can I help you?" the blonde girl asked.

"I—um—I don't know," Elle stammered. "I must have the wrong place or something. I was just looking for my brother and clearly you're not him. I'll—uh—I'll just be going."

Elle moved to turn away, but the girl spoke to her.

"Your brother wouldn't be Sam, would it?"

"Actually, yeah, his name is Sam. Sam Winchester."

"That must make you, Elle, the infamous little sister."

"Guilty?" Elle said raising her hands in defense.

"Don't worry; you've got the right place. Sam just crawled into bed not too long ago. I was up—well, I think you can see what I was doing," The blonde girl said holding up her toothbrush. "But come on in. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Elle muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just had a tickle in my throat."

The blonde allowed Elle entrance into the apartment.

"I'm Jess by the way."

"Good to know."

"Just wait here and I'll go get him."

Jess disappeared into a back room as Elle stood there awkwardly examining the room she was in. Pictures of Sam and Jess were scattered across the room. They looked happy, genuinely happy. This brought a mixture of happiness for her brother and jealousy. Nowhere did she see a picture of her or Dean. If he had them, he wasn't displaying them. Then again, maybe boys weren't as much of sentimental saps as girls. Hell, she carried around a photo album with pictures of herself and her brothers. Maybe that was just a girl thing though. Sam appeared from the back bedroom with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Elle?"

"It's me. Surprise."

Next thing she knew, Sam was engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug. She just awkwardly stood there and let her brother hug her while Jess watched from the doorway with a smile on her face. Elle wasn't exactly sure how she wanted to respond. Thankfully, Jess spoke up before Elle was forced to.

"Told you so," Jess said playfully.

Sam looked over his shoulder with a sloppy grin at his girlfriend before he squeezed his sister tight once more and then released her. Elle took a step back from her brother and looked up at him. She had always known that Sam was tall, but he seemed a whole hell of a lot taller than the last time she had seen him. He had to have over a foot of height on her. Elle offered her brother the best fake-awkward smile that she could and he must have bought it. That or he was just so excited to see her.

"Oh my God, Elle. I can't believe you're actually here. What are you doing here?" Sam questioned.

"Dean and I may or may not have had a slight disagreement," Elle stated carefully.

"A fight? That's just great. About?"

"Something Dad related."

"You know, isn't that always the case with that man."

"But I don't want to go into that now. Besides, now obviously isn't a good time. I'm interrupting-"

"No, you're not—well, technically you are—but you're welcome here. She's welcome here, right?" Same rambled before turning toward Jess.

"Yeah, I always wanted to meet a member of the mysterious Winchester family that Sam rarely talks about," Jess responded.

Elle looked to Sam who shrugged his shoulders. Elle was probably the least threatening of the trio Jess hadn't met. Dean often compared her to an annoying little dog: her bark was worse than her bite, but at least she was cute. Or at least that's what she hoped Dean meant by that. Jess offered to make Elle a sandwich, but Elle didn't want to impose on the couple. Besides, she needed to get Sam alone so that she could talk to him about the real reason she was there: finding Dad. Not to mention that Dean's outing wasn't going to take him _that_ much longer. Jess brought a pillow and blanket out and set them on the couch. Too bad Elle wasn't actually going to use them, but she didn't say anything. Jess then excused herself to go to bed not before mentioning something about an LSAT score, then leaving Sam and Elle alone.

"Sam—we should talk—"

"I agree, but I think it should be on some sleep."

"But—"

"C'mon, what's so important that it can't wait until morning?"

"Well—you see—"

"Morning all right? I'm just so wiped from going out tonight."

"You went out knowing what day it was?"

"Right? I know, you get it. But Jess wanted to go out, so I did the good boyfriend thing, you know?"

"I suppose it's more enjoyable when one doesn't know exactly what's out there."

"That's for sure; but I'm gonna hit the sack. I'll see you in the morning."

Elle nodded her head, even though she knew that Dean was going to show up before it was morning and knowing Dean, he was bound to make an entrance. Sam walked away toward the bedroom before he stopped halfway and turned around.

"It's really good to see you, Elle. I mean it."

"Yeah, you too, I guess."

Sam smiled at his sister, not reading too much into her non-committal response before he turned the lights off and disappeared into the bedroom. _That went well_, Elle thought. Maybe she didn't have as much sway on Sam as she once had. Dean was right. Maybe a good pounding would do him some good. Either way, Dean was never going to let her live this down. Elle plopped onto the couch before cuddling with the pillow and blanket. She might as well enjoy this while she had the chance. Just when she had finally found a comfortable position, her phone buzzed with a text message. She groaned as she rolled over to grab her cell phone from the side pocket of her bag before she opened the text message. It was from Dean, the only person who ever texted her. The text read: _Ready or not here i come._ It wasn't long before Elle heard the window jimmy open. Of course he couldn't use the door like a normal person. Nor did he know how to be quiet. Elle swore the sound of his boots stepping across the floor could wake the dead. She walked to meet him, but he must not have realized this because he clomped down on her bare feet with his steel-toed boots. Elle howled in pain as she smacked Dean.

"Elle hold on, I'm coming!" Sam shouted.

"This should be fun," Dean chuckled quietly enough for only Elle to hear.

"Don't you dare—" Elle started.

"Get away from her!" Sam hissed.

With that, Sam lunged at Dean and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down a bit. Dean knocked Sam's arm away and aimed to strike Sam, who managed to duck just a few moments before contact. Dean grabbed Sam's arm and swung him around before shoving him back. Sam managed a kick while yelling for Elle to run, before Dean blocked his kick and pushed him. Sam squinted trying to get a better view of the _attacker_, whom he still hadn't realized was his brother; but Dean elbowed him in the face. Elle shouted for the two boys to knock it off, but they weren't finished. Sam attempted a kick at Dean's face, but Dean ducked. Dean tried to swing at Sam, but Sam easily blocked him. Then when Sam wasn't expecting it, Dean knocked him over and pins him to the floor. One hand is at Sam's throat and the other is holding onto Sam's wrist.

"Whoa, easy tiger," Dean said with a grin.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a puzzled tone.

"Are you two done?" Elle groaned.

Dean laughed and slapped Sam on the shoulder.

"You scared the crap out of me, man!" Sam groaned.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Dean said.

Sam reached for Dean's hand and yanked on it hard before slamming his heel into Dean's back, knocking Dean to the floor. Elle chuckled at the sight.

"Or not," Dean groaned.

"Aren't you two just precious," Elle commented.

"You shut up," Dean directed toward Elle before turning to Sam. "And you get the hell off of me."

Sam rolled onto his feet before helping Dean off the floor. Dean nodded at Sam, but Sam appeared to have a cold façade on. Elle couldn't really figure out what was going on. Why was Sam mad at Dean, but not at her? But why was she angrier at Sam, but not Dean? And she had no idea what the hell was going through Dean's head at this point. Sam stood there with his arms folded across his chest.

"What the hell are you doing here, man?" Sam asked.

"Well, I was looking for a beer; but it looks like I got a family reunion instead," Dean responded.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam repeated.

"You mean, Princess here didn't tell you?" Dean asked. "Why am I not surprised?"

"You have no right to talk about her like that. She told me about you two and how you're being a pain-in-the-ass as usual and she can't stand the sight of your face."

"Did she at least mention that my face is adorable?"

"Cut the crap Dean! I'm going to ask you for the last time why the hell are you here?"

"Okay. All right. We gotta talk. All three of us."

Dean and Sam started their bickering again, which Elle didn't want to get in the middle of, so she walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she turned the tap on, Jess made her way into the conversation. Without even seeing Dean's face, she knew that her brother was checking the girl out, especially given the bed clothes she was wearing. Jess made a comment about going to put some more clothes on, but Dean made a cheeky remark about her not needing to. She loved her brother, but God was he a perv. She reached for an apple on the counter beside her which she chucked at Dean's head. She nailed him right on the back of the head. He turned around to glare at her with his hand on the back of his head while Sam managed a laugh.

"You were saying?" Elle commented.

"I was saying that I need to borrow this pretty girl's boyfriend and my runaway sister to talk about some private family business," Dean said through gritted teeth before turning toward Jess. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No," Sam said sternly. "Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

"Sam, maybe that's not—" Elle started.

"No, he's right Elle. Besides, she's almost family anyway," Dean said before looking directly at Sam. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam seemed to scoff at Dean. At least Dean had managed to phrase things without giving too much away. He did at least have some tact left. Sam wrapped his arm tighter around Jess before giving Dean a response.

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He's stumble back in sooner or later. Always does."

"Sam, it's different this time," Elle added.

"How?"

"Dad's on a _hunting trip_ and he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean said solemnly.

"Jess, excuse us. The three of us need to go outside. Now," Sam said.

Sam walked into the bedroom and threw on some clothes. While he was gone, Dean was attempting to sweet talk Jess, but she remained immune to Dean's charms. Sam must have told her a little about him, because she remained rather aloof toward him, a much different reaction than Elle had received. Sam walked back into the main room before he pointed toward the door. Dean went first, followed by Elle, and Sam brought up the rear as they descended the metal staircase. Things already felt tense and they had barely discussed things. Elle couldn't help from commenting on the situation.

"Whoever said family reunions were supposed to be enjoyable has never met the Winchesters."

Neither Sam nor Dean made a remark. Clearly things were not going well. Elle just hoped they could put their difference aside for a few days to find Dad, because honestly, they didn't need any more family drama than that.

**Author's note: Congratulations to those of you who have made it this far and thanks for reading. I hope it was at least partly an enjoyable experience. I will apologize in advance however for it being my first Supernatural story. I hope that it (and Elle) are at least tolerable. Speaking of Elle, I do realize that her date of birth would be after Mary died. There is a reason for that and it will be explained later. I promise. So, what are your thoughts so far? :)**

**~January Lily**


	2. The Woman in White

_**Us Against the World**_

By January Lily

* * *

_And tonight I know it all has to begin again,_

_So whatever you do,_

_Don't let go._

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Woman in White**

Elle continued down the stairwell behind Dean and in front of Sam as her brothers' discussion began to get rather heated. Sam was angry that Dean would break-in during the middle of the night and Dean was angry that Sam was missing the point about Dad. Even though Dean didn't say it, she was pretty sure he was a bit peeved at her for not buttering Sammy up enough to get him to come along. But the entire flight down the stairs, Elle kept her mouth shut. While she agreed more with Dean than Sam, she needed Sam to believe that she wasn't against him: hence keeping her mouth shut. She was so focused on not saying the wrong thing that she didn't even know that Dean had stopped descending the stairs. She slammed hard into him causing her to lose her balance. Somehow, Sam managed to catch her; but she quickly got back to her feet, not wanting to feel like she owed Sam or anything. Dean shook his head at Elle's clumsiness before he turned around and looked Sam in the eye.

"Dad's never been gone this long before and deep down you know it. He's in trouble. So, are you going to come with us or not?" Dean asked.

"I'm not and you're not taking Elle on this crazy trip with you either," Sam argued.

"Crazy trip? If I recall, in your _normal_ world, looking for one's missing father isn't considered crazy," Dean hissed. "And Elle is certainly coming with me."

"She came here, didn't she? Seems to me that she doesn't want to do this anymore, man."

"You haven't seen her in over two years, Sammy. You hardly even know Elle, _man_."

"Yet somehow she still ended up on my doorstep even after two years of radio silence. What does that say for you?"

"It says—"

"Will you two shut up? Elle can speak for herself you know and Elle thinks that you're both being idiots and are getting off the point. Dad's missing: plain and simple. Sam, Dean wants you to come because he could use your help. Dean, Sam wants you to stop being an ass and listen to him for once. Was that so hard?" Elle finally jumped in. "Boys."

Sam and Dean looked to each other, to Elle, and then back to each other. They knew that Elle wasn't one for speaking her mind unless she absolutely had to or she was incredibly annoyed.

"Silence. Finally, thank you Jesus," Elle muttered.

Dean sighed before he looked Sam straight in the eye once more.

"I'm gonna ask you again, Sammy—"Dean started.

"Nicely," Elle added. "What? It can't hurt."

"Sammy, _I'm asking you nicely_, are you coming with or not?" Dean asked.

"I already told you that I'm not," Sam said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And don't call me that."

"And why the hell not?" Dean furthered with an angry tone.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"C'mon, it wasn't always easy, but it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Then why is Elle here? It certainly wasn't a healthy environment for a little girl to be raised."

"I'm not a little girl anymore," Elle hissed, letting her emotions get a hold of her mouth.

"Maybe not, but can you honestly tell me that if you could do it over again that you would choose the way we were raised?" Sam asked.

"You know the answer to that," Elle sighed.

"Exactly my point! Dean, when Elle and I were scared of the thing in the closet, Dad gave me a .45 and told her to grow a pair."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the thought John Winchester telling Elle to grow a pair. While he knew deep down Elle was probably scared shitless of most of what they faced, she had managed to mask her fear. On the outside, Elle was probably the most collected and sensible girl he had ever come across; but he also knew his sister. She had plenty of moments when she let her emotions get the best of her; but over the years she had learned to not wear them on her sleeve and instead bury them. After a moment of silence, Dean looked up to Sam who had an incredulous look on his face.

"It's not funny, Dean," Sam hissed.

"Well, what was he supposed to do?" Dean questioned.

"I was nine years old, Dean! Elle was—"Sam said turning toward her.

"Eight," Elle added, clearly disappointed that her own brother didn't even remember how old she was.

"He was supposed to tell us to not be afraid of the dark," Sam finished.

"And a hug or two wouldn't have hurt," Elle muttered to herself so that the boys couldn't hear, but loud enough for her to get it off her chest.

"Don't be afraid of the dark?" Dean scoffed. "Are you freaking kidding me? He did you a favor. Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You two know what's out there and babying the two of you wouldn't have done any good. It could have gotten you killed or worse."

"Yeah, I know that man, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed—"Sam started.

At that moment, Elle could practically see an invisible knife jab Dean in the gut. She wished she could have stopped Sam from going there because he just insulted Dean's attempts to raise them. While she knew that Sam was referring to the way _John_ had raised them, she knew that Dean was going to take it somewhat personally. Dean had tried his best to raise two younger siblings, but it wasn't a responsibility that he should have had in the first place—which was what Sam was getting at—Elle didn't want to see this end badly.

"I—I'm going to wait by the car," Elle said before she pushed past Dean. "Come find me when you're done acting like a bunch of babies and are ready to figure this out rationally."

Elle marched her way across the parking lot to the Impala for effect. They hadn't even left Sam's apartment yet and the arguing had already started. If this was any sign about how the mission to save Dad was going to go…well, to put it frankly, they were doomed. Elle turned back in the darkness to look at the outlines of her brother arguing. She felt somewhat ashamed that she hadn't stood up for Dean. For years Dean had been putting up with people's crap and always stood-up for her; she wished she could do the same for him. Well that and she wanted to give Sam a piece of what was really on her mind. When they found Dad and he was back to his _normal _life, maybe then she could find the courage to voice what was buried deep within her. Elle ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. She always seemed to have a response for everything, but not for the things that really mattered. Sure, she could give some sort of dry, sarcastic response; but for years now, for the most part, she had buried her true feelings and it would probably come back to bite her in the ass.

When she finally reached the Impala she opened the passenger door and slumped onto the seat. Elle kicked her red Converse onto the dashboard and sat there in the silence, waiting for Sam and Dean to come after her, so to speak. After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only five minutes, Sam and Dean's voices began to drift into the car. They sounded a little more under control than they had earlier, and Elle had her emotions in check, so she stepped out of the car and slowly walked toward her brothers who were standing around the trunk of the car talking somewhat civilly.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked Dean.

"He wasn't alone," Elle said calmly lifting her blue eyes in Sam's direction.

"See—I wasn't alone, but c'mon dude, I'm twenty-six," Dean scoffed.

"Elle-Belle's not Dad," Sam stated clearly trying to show the difference between their rough father and her by using his childhood nickname for her.

"When you like Dean calling you Sammy, you can use that stupid nickname," Elle retorted.

"Elle-Belle can kick it in the ass when she has to," Dean smirked toward her as he pulled some papers out of a folder. "Now, back to the case. Here we go. Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy."

Dean handed a sheet of paper over to Sam. Elle took a few steps closer toward Sam so that she could figuratively look over his shoulder, but in reality he was too tall, she needed to stand beside him to see what he saw. The paper in her brother's hand was a computer printout of an article from the _Jericho Herald_ with the caption "Centennial Highway Disappearance." The date was over a month ago: September 19, 2005. There was also a man's picture. His name was Andrew Carey and he was missing. Sam looked at Elle who was attempting to read it as well, so he titled it in her direction. Elle nodded her head at Sam in thanks, even though she had already seen the article before; but at least Sam was still somewhat considerate of some things. Sam cleared his throat.

"Maybe he was just kidnapped, man," Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I thought that at first too," Dean commented before he slipped another piece of paper into Sam's hand. "But here's another one in April. Then December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, ninety-eight, ninety-two—"

"Ten in all over the past twenty years," Elle added as Dean nodded his head and handed the rest of the papers over to Sam.

"I see you've done your research," Sam stated as he thumbed through the papers.

"Yeah, of course I did," Dean scoffed.

"Hem. Hem," Elle cleared her throat.

"Well, Elle did some of it," Dean said.

"Excuse me? If I recall correctly—" Elle began in retort.

"Fine, Elle did most of it. Happy?" Dean said in a low growl.

"I never would have believed that Dean did this much research," Sam said with a wink toward his sister.

"Thank you," Elle said with a smile that she didn't even have to force.

"Who cares who found the damn stuff? There's something going after men on the same five-mile stretch of road," Dean said.

"At least we know I should probably be safe because I don't have a dick," Elle said with a smirk.

"Son-of-a-bitch, Elle, you never let me finish," Dean groaned.

"It's part of the job description, you know, the annoying little sister," Elle retorted.

"I forgot how entertaining this could be," Sam chuckled as he shook his head at his siblings.

"Well who would have thought that I'm the one trying to keep us on track here?" Dean said with a scoff under his breath. "Now the disappearances started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough—"

Dean took a handheld tape recorder out of his pocket and showed it at Sam and Elle.

"Then, I got this voicemail yesterday—" Dean started.

Elle looked at him in confusion. She knew nothing about a voicemail. Hell, she had been with Dean most of the day on the freaking road. Her emotions were beginning to bubble up again. She could practically feel them eating away inside her. When did he get that voicemail? But more importantly-

"Why didn't you tell me that you heard from him?" Elle hissed.

"Because I knew you'd respond like this," Dean stated directing a hand motion toward her.

"He does have a point," Sam said with a shrug.

"On no, you two do not get to team up against me, not cool, Especially that given just a few minutes ago-" Elle groaned.

"Are you done?" Dean interrupted looking at her with his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together.

"Just play the damn tape," Elle muttered as her hand reached for messy hair.

"Thank you," Dean said cheekily.

Elle rolled her eyes in frustration at her brother. She was pretty pissed off that he didn't tell her about the freaking voicemail. Did he really not trust her that much? But she didn't have long to dwell on her anger because Dean hit play on the tape recorder and her father's voice came from the machine. The recording itself was very staticky and the signal was breaking up. Now most people wouldn't think much of what was happening with the recording—but she and her brothers knew better—EVP. Elle attempted to soak in her father's words, but there wasn't even a mention about her—only Dean. _Dean—something big is starting to happen—I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may—Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger._ Dean stopped the recording and Sam made a mention of the EVP on the recording. Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said.

"Whatever, man," Sam responded with a shake of his head.

"But you obviously knew what it was to begin with—" Elle started.

"That's right, so I slowed the message down and I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what we now have—"Dean said before pressing play again.

This time when he played it, a woman's voice could clearly be hear: _I can never go home_. The three Winchesters looked to each other when Dean stopped the recording. Sam repeated the woman's words like he was trying to process some hidden meaning to them. Dean dropped the recorder into the trunk, set down the shotgun he had been holding before he stood straight to slam the trunk shut. Dean then leaned against the trunk and looked at Sam, who still appeared to be processing.

"Sammy, you know, in almost two years, we've never bothered you—never asked you for a damn thing," Dean said.

"Just this once," Elle added before tagging on a lie. "I—I need you to keep me from strangling Dean at some point."

"You can't let her to that to my adorable face," Dean said with a smirk.

Sam looked away for a few seconds before he sighed and turned back toward them.

"All right, guys, I'll go. I'll help find him."

Elle breathed an inward sigh of relief that Sam had finally decided to come along. She wasn't sure what his reasons were, but he was coming and that was all she needed to know. She headed to get in the car while Sam went back inside to pack a few things before they headed out. Elle slid into the front seat and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to sleep; but she also knew that the backseat needed some cleaning. Hers and Dean's dirty clothes were scattered across the back. It had been awhile since they had been to a laundry mat. Maybe she could pop a load of clothes in while they were investigating or something. Elle leaned over the backseat and shoved the dirty clothes into a duffel bag, leaving room for one passenger in the back. Dean opened the driver's side door and sat down at the wheel as Sam opened the passenger's side door. Elle looked to him as he nodded his head toward the backseat. She shook her head no. After Sam left she finally worked her way to getting to ride shot-gun and now that he was suddenly back she was expected to go be banished to the backseat again?

"You've got to be kidding me," Elle groaned. "You never called shot-gun and I'm already here."

"C'mon, I need the leg room," Sam argued. "You're smaller."

"I can't help it that I didn't inherit the freakish giant genes. You're discriminating against me because I'm short," Elle retorted.

"I'm sure that argument will hold up in court," Sam said sarcastically. "Please, Elle?"

"Well—"

"Elle, get in the back," Dean said gruffly. "House rules."

"I thought that only applied to music," Elle argued.

"And apparently seating arrangements for your two kids," Dean said. "Not to mention that Sammy will never fit back there with all your crap."

_My crap?_ Elle thought. She slightly narrowed her eyes at Dean before she set her jaw and climbed over the seat and landed not-so-gracefully in the back. As she was trying to situated herself, Sam threw his duffel bag in the back which nearly hit her head. Elle groaned as Sam's door slammed shut and Dean shifted the car into drive. She curled up with the duffel and quickly fell asleep as Sam and Dean sat there in silence, unsure of what to say to each other after years of separation. When Elle finally came to consciousness, Dean was shaking her awake, because they were stopped outside a gas station after a night's worth of driving. Sam was standing just outside the door pumping some gas. Elle could barely lift her head as her eyes failed to adjust to the light.

"Use it or lose it Sleeping Beauty."

With her eyes barely open, she knew her brother was referring to the restroom in the gas station.

"Five more minutes," Elle mumbled as she plopped her head back down onto the bag she had been using as a pillow.

Dean shook his head before he headed inside. Sam must have finished filling the car up because he slid into the front seat as _Ramblin Man_ by the Allman Brothers began to play. He turned around and looked at his baby sister. God, to him, she had grown-up so much since he had left. She was no longer the teenage girl he had left behind. No, she was a grown woman—left to fend for herself with Dean and Dad. He felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. She was the only regret he had about leaving the life for Stanford. There were times when he had wanted call her to make sure she was all right—or to beg her to change her mind to come live with him—but he never acted on those impulses. And now—here they were. Sam looked out the window to see Dean come walking out the door with his arms full of junk food. Sam turned around and shook Elle. Elle's head popped up once more, with one eye open.

"What is it?" Elle moaned.

"Dean's coming and if you have to _go_, I'd go now," Sam said.

Elle looked out her window to see Dean drawing nearer. Shit. She scrambled to get out of the backseat with her bag slung across her shoulders before she ran across the asphalt to the convenience mart. Dean called for her to hurry up to which she didn't give him a response. Elle quickly did her morning routine in the bathroom while hoping that Dean didn't take-off without her. He had done that to her several time. Of course, he always managed to swing back around to get her—but that wasn't the point. The point was—he would leave without her. Hopefully, Sam could manage to distract him long enough. Once her teeth were brushed, her hair was untangled, and her bladder relieved, Elle marched outside to find that her brothers were thankfully still there. Dean caught sight of Elle and he honked the horn to which she responded by flipping him the bird. She was barely in the car when Dean began to drive off.

Sam was on the phone when they passed the sign that said it was only seven more miles until Jericho. Jericho—that was a sort of biblical place—if Elle recalled correctly, it was the city where the walls came crashing down by some act of God. While she wasn't exactly sure where she stood on the biblical account of things—she couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort of omen. Were things going to come crashing down on them? She certainly hoped not. Sam closed his phone and announced that there was no one matching Dad's description at the hospital or the morgue. Elle wasn't sure that was a good thing or a bad thing—but according to Sam, it was _something_. Elle looked ahead to see a bridge and it looked like something was going down. She slightly squinted her eyes to focus. She saw two police cars at the bridge and several officers. Dean pulled over and he must have figured that it was something important because he reached for the glove compartment. Dean pulled out a box of ID cards and picked one out before turning toward Elle.

"Sam—you're with me," Dean said. "Elle, you know what to do."

Elle nodded her head as Sam and Dean got out of the car. She watched as Sam looked like he was trying to get into the role he was about to play; but Elle quickly turned her attention toward her bag. She pulled out a pair of glasses that didn't have a prescription in the lenses and put them on her face—to try and make her look a little older than she was. She then reached for Sam's bag and grinned when she found that he had packed an article of Stanford apparel. She put the enormous sweatshirt on her tiny frame before grabbing a notebook, pen, and digital camera. She then exited the car and walked toward the youngest officer-w— thankfully wasn't talking with Sam and Dean. The man looked to be a rookie-that or extremely nervous which would make Elle's job a whole lot easier. Elle played with her hair as she walked closer to the young officer who was standing several hundred feet away from the river.

"Ex—excuse me officer," Elle stammered, feigning nervousness.

The man quickly turned around and held up a hand. The man was rather attractive and he couldn't have been much older than Dean was.

"Hold it right there miss—this is a—um—a crime scene," the officer said.

"What crime has been committed?"

"We're trying to figure that out. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave—"

"Wait—no! I'm—uh—I'm with the Stanford Daily and I have a right to be here."

"Identification?"

The officer held out his hand for her to place her ID in. Elle could give him a fake piece of crap ID but one look at the man told her that she could probably get by with some water works. She began to dig in her pockets as her expression as a panicked expression grew on her face.

"No. No. No. This cannot be happening. I drove all freaking night and I forgot my school ID. Great. Just freaking great. My editor is going to kill me—"

At this point tears began to spring from Elle's eyes. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to cry on command. She had plenty of crappy things happen to her in her life. All she had to do was think about one of them and tell her brain not to cry—then BINGO: tears. Elle pushed her fake glasses to the top of her head in order to give the officer a better view of her teary blue eyes. Just as she suspected, the young man was already cringing at the tears.

"Hey now, don't cry miss," the officer begged. "Just—uh—just tell me your name and we'll go from there."

"My name is Jess," Elle sniffled. "Jess—short for Jessica. Jessica Moore."

By now, Elle knew that the best lies originated from the truth. Sure she probably shouldn't have used her brother's girlfriend—but the girl was the first person that popped into her head.

"Well what brings you to town Miss Jessica?"

"It's Jess—and I'm doing a follow-up piece on the disappearance of Andrew Carey."

"Well—we haven't heard any more as far as Mr. Carey is concerned; but this fellow seems to have gone the same way."

"You don't say? You wouldn't happen to have a name, would you?" Elle began furiously writing in the notebook she brought.

"I can't go releasin' information like that—but if you go into town you might find it on some of the missing posters. Not that I told you that, of course."

"Right, thanks though. Now off the record, what do _you_ think is going on?"

"Off the record, none of this makes any sense. I may be a rookie, but we didn't train for this kind of stuff. It's just too clean. Not like any criminal I've ever seen, not that I've been to many. The bad guys always mess up at some point, but this guy—it's just freaky, like out of this world freaky."

"Yeah, totally freaky."

"Quit flirting and get back to work, Zeske," the sheriff shouted as he walked toward the bridge.

The young officer jolted straight before he turned toward the man who must be his superior. Elle inwardly groaned. Just when she was getting somewhere with the guy. Surprisingly, the young officer asked for her notebook and pen. He scribbled something on there and handed it back to Elle. She saw ten digits listed on the top page of her notes.

"Just in case," the man said.

She just nodded her head with a smile and asked if it would be all right if she took a few pictures with her camera. The officer obliged as long as she stayed behind the tape because legally there wasn't anything he could do about it. Elle flashed the man a smile, which she was almost positive, caused the man to blush as he walked away. Being a girl could definitely work in her favor at times. Elle took a few pictures of the water and then angled the camera up toward the bridge. She also couldn't help herself when Dean came into the frame of her camera with his finger near his nose. He was probably just itching the outside of it, but from her angle it looked like he was picking it. With a smirk on her face, Elle slunk back to the Impala, careful that no one saw her get in. She kept low in the backseat, just in case someone passed by—but the smell of the dirty laundry was finally starting to get to her.

Five minutes later, Sam and Dean returned to the car and gave her an update about what they knew. Apparently, one of the officers had a daughter who was dating the young man who was now missing. They didn't get much because according to Dean, Sam was a little rusty at her interrogation skills. Elle found that slightly amusing since Sam was pre-law…well, if he returned to his apple pie, cookie-cutter life after this. Dean then turned the tables toward Elle.

"What did you find out?" Dean asked.

"Not much—the sheriff totally cock-blocked him," Elle responded.

"Good because if he wouldn't have—I certainly would've," Dean said.

"The guy wouldn't have gotten far because unlike you Dean—I happen to have something called dignity and standards."

Sam chuckled until Dean shot him an icy glare. Sam attempted to stifle his laughter as Dean put the car in drive once more. There was one thing they all agreed upon: they had to go into town. On the ride into Jericho Elle showed Sam the picture she had taken of Dean. She was pretty sure Sam was laughing so hard that he could have pissed himself, which caused Elle to laugh and Dean to demand to see the picture. It almost felt like just old times…her and Sammy. But once Elle had the camera back in her possession, that short-lived moment was over and done and thing were back to being complicated again.

As they pulled into town, Elle noticed the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater. It had information about a town meeting and warned people to be safe. Clearly the townspeople were worried. Dean parked the car and the three of them exited the Impala. A young woman was tacking up posters not too far from them. They started toward her when Dean bent his head down toward Elle.

"Elle, scram," Dean whispered.

"What? Why?" Elle questioned.

"Because that poor girl's not gonna talk to us if you're around,"

"Did you ever think that maybe another girl is exactly what she needs?"

"You don't know women like I know them"  
"Clearly I know nothing about girls," Elle said grabbing her boobs.

"You're not exactly a girlie girl, the closest thing you had to a woman growing up was Samantha over here," Dean said jostling his head toward Sam.

"I heard that," Sam said snapping his face toward the conversation.

"A young woman in her position is gonna want a shoulder to cry on—a nice manly shoulder," Dean argued as he reached over and patted Sam's shoulders. "You could go do the laundry or something."

"Wouldn't that be considered _women's _work? Something I seem to know nothing about?" Elle countered.

"Just go do it," Dean said in an annoyed tone.

Elle eyed Dean for a minute before she folded her arms across her chest and quickly spun on her heel. She was angry—beyond angry—downright pissed off. Dean was choosing Sam over her. She was the one who had been with him when Sam had deserted them. She had stayed. She was the one who put up with him. And yet put Sammy back in rotation, he goes crawling right back to him. If this had been last week when Sam wasn't around, Dean wouldn't have really questioned her coming along. Sometimes being a third-wheel sucked—especially a third wheel in the Winchester siblings. Right about now she wished that Sam hadn't even come along. Then things would at least be normal. Sam screwed everything up in her life—even her relationship with Dean. Hell—maybe even her father whose love she desperately longed for. Then again—that was probably her fatal flaw—thinking that she was never enough.

After grabbing the duffel bag with all the dirty laundry, Elle walked to the closest laundry mat. Seeing as she was still pissed off—she separated the laundry into Dean's clothes and Elle's clothes. She may have _accidentally _poured some bleach into Dean's washer which had clothes in it that shouldn't have been bleached; but she didn't care. Served him right. Besides, he could easily go out and buy some more clothes with the credit card scams he and Dad ran. While the washing machine ran its cycle, Elle sat and read the old magazines on the table until the washer finished. As she pulled Dean's clothes out, she could already tell that some of his clothes had awkward white spots—including a pair of jeans with a huge white patch in the crotch area. Elle shoved them into a dryer. Just when she finally sat back down she got a text from Dean: _Meet us at the library._ Elle didn't respond to his text because she was busy doing what girls do—even though she apparently wasn't good at it. As she was folding the laundry she got another text. _Where are you? Library. Now. _Elle tossed her phone onto the pile of t-shirts she had folded. He probably didn't even know that she was pissed at him—or why. After another ten minutes her phone began to ring. She debated not answering it—but the lady a few feet over was glaring. Elle picked up the phone, but didn't say anything.

"Elle, I know you're there," Dean's voice echoed.

"Congratulations. Figure that one out on your own or did you need Sam's help?" Elle retorted.

"Quit being a little bitch and get your ass down here to the library."

"Sam's there. I'm sure you're fine."

"Dad's missing, so now isn't the time to have one of your hissy fits."

"You're not my boss, Dean."

"Actually I kinda am. But you have seven minutes to get down here before I come after your sorry ass and you know that things won't be pretty if I have to do that."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

Elle slammed her phone shut, not even waiting for Dean's response. She knew that she was being stubborn—and that she shouldn't take things out on Dean; but there were some things she just couldn't help. After pocketing her cellphone, Elle shoved all the clean clothes back into the duffel bag. She felt the slightest twinge of guilt for bleaching Dean's clothes, but her anger didn't let that feeling last long. She threw the duffel over her arm and left the laundry mat but when she got outside, she realized that she didn't know where the library was. She wandered around for longer than the time Dean had allotted to her before she found the building. She was just walking up the steps to the library when Dean met her at the door.

"Took you long enough," Dean commented.

"I got lost. You didn't exactly tell me how to get here," Elle growled.

"Follow me," was all Dean responded.

Dean led Elle through the library. As he did, he explained about local legend the girls had told him about. Apparently there was this woman who was murdered out on Centennial and to this day she hitchhikes and whoever picks her up, disappears. It wasn't the weirdest thing Elle had ever heard, so it could be plausible or at least have some truth to it. Spirits come from violent deaths—and murder is usually a violent way to die. Dean led Elle to a computer Sam was sitting next to with a book in his hand. As Dean sat down to the computer, Elle stood behind him, watching over his shoulder. He opened the web browser and searched for the _Jericho Herald. _In the search box he typed: Female Murder Hitchhiking. He got nothing.

"Try hitchhiking and Centennial Highway, but put Centennial Highway in quotations," Elle suggested.

"Zero. Zilch. Nadda," Dean commented after he had tried Elle's suggestion.

"Let me try," Sam said as without warning, his hands reached for the keyboard. Dean slapped at Sam's hands.

"I got it," Dean hissed.

But Sam responded by shoving Dean's chair out of the way. Sam then quickly took over the position at the keyboard. He then begins to explain that maybe they're working the Spirit's violent death from the wrong angle. Maybe it wasn't murder—maybe it was suicide. Sam replaced the word hitchhiking with suicide in the search bar and an article title _Suicide on Centennial_ appeared. The three Winchesters look to each other as Sam opened the article dated April 25, 1981. Elle began to read over Sam's shoulder.

_A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. She reported that their complex-_

Elle's eyes shifted down to further in the story.

_What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time." At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager." Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."_

That would do it. The woman was probably so distraught from losing her babies that things hadn't exactly gone as expected when she threw herself over that bridge. Elle's eyes looked to the picture with the article. Her eyes flickered with interest as she pulled her digital camera out of her other bag she was toting around as Sam began explaining things aloud to Dean. She scrolled back until she had the picture she was looking for.

"The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked.

"A little," Elle said sarcastically as she handed Dean her digital camera. Her picture was taken from almost the exact angle the one attached to the article was taken at.

"Anyone up for a little moonlight stroll?" Sam said.

The Three Winchesters found themselves at the Sylvania Bridge. Dean parked the Impala at the end of the bridge before they all got out and walked along the bridge. Elle came to a stop and had to practically get on her tippy-toes to see over the railing down into the river. Sam and Dean stood on either side of her also looking down into the dark river. Elle watched the water running underneath her. She had learned a lot of things growing up—especially about ganking ghosts; but something she had never had time for was learning how to swim. She knew it was rather pathetic that at twenty-one years of age that she didn't know how to swim; but she never really had anyone to teach her.

"So this where Constance took the swan dive," Dean commented.

"Not exactly the way I'd want to go—but to each their own," Elle responded.

"So you guys think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him," Dean said.

"Makes sense," Elle added.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam questioned.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while—" Dean started.

"Dean, I told you man that I've gotta get back by Monday—" Sam interrupted.

Of course things grew tense between the two brothers again as they began to get into it about Sam's want for the cookie-cutter lifestyle. It was pretty much the Winchester way to butt heads on everything. Between the three of them, one of them was always bound to be the odd man out. Elle often wondered if this was the dynamic between a _normal_ family. She was pretty sure that it wasn't, but the Winchesters never were nor would they ever be considered a normal family. Elle was done getting her emotions toyed with for the day, so she remained rather pensive and silent—choosing to watch the scene that was unfolding before her. Dean brought up Jess and how that she doesn't know a thing about what they do. Sam argued that she was never going to and Dean called him out on facing up to who he really was. Dean told Sam that he was one of them—always would be; but Sam didn't want to hear that and argued against it. Sam made a pop-shot comment about Dad before he played the dead mom card, which immediately pissed Dean off. It pissed him off enough to grab Sam by the collar and shove him against the railing of the bridge. At this point Elle intervened and pushed one of Dean's shoulders to get him off Sam. Dean took a step back his hands practically shaking. As he took another step away his eyes widened.

"Sam, Elle," Dean muttered.

They see Constance looking over at them. She is standing on the edge of the bridge and she looks over at the Winchesters before she steps forward off the edge. The three of them look over the railing and try to see where she went. None of them had any luck at spotting her. Suddenly, behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Elle, Sam, and Dean turn to look at the car and then look to each other. The engine gives a rev.

"What the—" Dean started.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked.

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them. Elle and Sam both looked to Dean before looking back to the car. Elle said what was all on their minds.

"I think we found her," Elle whispered.

The car jerked into motion and headed straight for them, with Constance in charge. Not good, definitely not good. The three of them turn to run. Sam shouted for them to go as the car began speeding down the bridge faster and faster toward them. It is going faster than they are. When they realize this, Sam and Dean easily climb over the railing due to their towering height; but Elle's lack-thereof proved to be her downfall. The Impala was several yards from her when she climbed a little higher on the railing, but she still couldn't swing her legs over the top. Sam and Dean each took hold of one of her hands and jerked her the rest of the way across the railing. They jerked a little too hard though because Elle didn't stop on the edge like her brothers. Instead, she felt herself flying into the air before her body plummeted into the dark, cold river below. Her screams filled the eerily silent night air until there was a loud splash. Sam and Dean looked to each other.

"Elle!" Sam and Dean shouted simultaneously only to receive no response.

"She's going to be fine, right?" Sam asked Dean.

"Damnit, she can't swim," Dean hissed.

Without even waiting for a response from Sam, Dean released his grip on the bridge and dropped into the water below to save his sister, shouting his sister's name his entire trip down. He hit the water forcefully, so it took him a bit longer to reach the surface than normal. He gasped for breath when he finally got top side. He called Elle's name and he treaded water to stay afloat with the current of the river. He could hear Sam calling Elle's name, but somewhere in the silence he heard soft cries coming from a bit downstream. Dean called Elle's name and he heard his name called faintly.

"Elle just keep talking," Dean called.

Dean let himself float downstream as Elle's talking grew louder.

"Constance is a stupid bitch. She didn't even follow her own freaking rules. I'm not a guy. I have boobs. They're not hard to notice. Do you hear that Constance? I have boobs!"

Dean chuckled as he spit some of the murky water out of his mouth. Thankfully, the moonlight gave Elle's position away. She was clinging tightly to a rock that was protruding from the water. Thankfully, they hadn't fallen on that. Dean swam over to his sister and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I got you baby sister," Dean said. "Just hold on to me."

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do—coming after me like that," Elle said as she clung tightly to Dean as he steered them toward shore.

"I just saved you—you should be thanking me," Dean said.

Elle was speechless for a moment before the real tears came on. She was a blubbering mess as Dean finally got them to shore. Not to mention that the two of them were covered head to toe in mud.

"Thank you for coming after me," Elle blubbered. "I thought I was going to die."

"Not on my watch, Elle," Dean said.

"I'm sorry for acting like a bitch."

"You're a girl, it happens…frequently."

"And I'm sorry for bleaching all your clothes."

"You bleached my clothes? Damnit Elle."

"I said I was sorry!"

Sam was calling both Dean's and Elle's names until Dean finally called up to him that they were all right. Dean and Elle rested on shore for a few minutes in silence before Dean started to chuckle. Elle slowly turned toward her brother with a puzzled expression on her face. It was the first time she heard him genuinely laugh since Dad had gone missing.

"What?" Elle groaned.

"So much for being safe because you don't have a dick," Dean teased.

"Shut up. You're being a dick right now."

"That's probably because I have one."

"If I wasn't in so much pain I'd smack you."

After several more minutes of just lying there on the bank, Dean helped Elle onto her feet and guided her back up to the bridge. She looked up to the stars that twinkled overhead. She normally didn't believe in lucky stars, guardian angels, or whatnot—but there was no way she and Dean should have survived that fall. Somehow they were alive. How? She wasn't sure—but she had a feeling that something was watching over them.

Elle rested while Dean checked out the car to make sure it was all right. He didn't find anything wrong with it and after Sam made a comment that the two of them smelled like a toilet, the two brothers helped Elle into the car. Sam gave up his front seat because it was easier to get her in there. Dean then drove them to a motel, where Elle waited in the Impala while Sam and Dean checked in. She fell asleep and after the ordeal they had just been through, neither Sam nor Dean wanted to wake her. Instead Sam picked his little sister up in his arms and carried her to the motel room. Sam looked down at her as she seemed to cuddle close to him while he waited for Dean to unlock the room. She looked so broken—so fragile. It was strange seeing Elle like this. It was a whole other side to his sister that he hadn't really considered existed. It had probably been there the whole time—but she buried that part of her. She shouldn't have to do that. She shouldn't have to live the life that they lived. This life wasn't for her. He knew that Dean probably wasn't going to like it, but when he got back to Stanford, he wasn't going to take no as an answer from Elle. If he was getting out—then so was she.

Elle slept longer than she had anticipated. In fact, she slept so long that Sam and Dean were gone when she woke up. They had left her a note saying something about going to find the room Dad was apparently using. When they found out about that, she didn't know; but she was at least thankful that they left her a couple donuts on the table. But on to top it off, they were her favorite: glazed sour cream donuts. Elle hadn't realized how hungry she was until she practically inhaled two donuts. Now all she had left to do was wait for her brothers to return. While she waited, she took a long hot shower and then crawled back into bed to watch some TV because her body was still quite sore from last night. When the boys finally returned to the room, Elle was already asleep again, propped up on some pillows with the TV on some sort of afternoon soap opera. Dean walked over the Elle's bedside.

"Constance really did a number on Elle—stupid bitch. When I get my hands on her—" Dean growled.

"I'm right there with you, man," Sam responded.

"No one gets to hurt her like this while I'm around."

"I'm surprised she hasn't gotten hurt worse before."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean, I don't want to fight; but can you honestly tell me that this is what is right for Elle? The life that she deserves?"

"No one deserves this, Sammy; but someone's gotta do it and it might as well be us."

Sam didn't get to divulge his plan to Dean, because Elle's bright blue eyes fluttered open. She slowly sat up, cringing with almost every move she made. Dean looked almost uncomfortable at his sister's pain. He moved to sit on the bed across from her.

"What did you find out?" Elle asked hoarsely.

"We're dealing with a woman in white," Dean responded.

"Great—another corpse to dig up," Elle groaned.

"That's not all we found," Sam responded.

With a slight smile on his face, Sam pressed a picture into Elle's hand. The picture showed John, Dean, Sam, and Elle many…many years ago. They were sitting on the hood of the Impala. John was holding onto Sam; while Dean was holding onto Elle. Things seemed so much simpler back then—when they had no freaking clue what was going on in the world. While Elle was looking at the picture, Sam sat down on the bed as he held his phone to his ear. Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder before he stood once more.

"Hey, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. Either of you want anything?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam responded flatly.

"Aframaian's buying," Dean said enticingly.

"The answers still now."

"How 'bout you Elle? Can I interest you in some pie?"

"You're the one with the pie obsession," Elle chuckled.

"Really? What if they happen to have some pumpkin pie? You'd actually have the will-power to turn it down?"

"Fine, if there's some pumpkin I'll take some. But I'd prefer a main meal first."

"What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

Dean clicked his tongue and pointed in Elle's direction before he left the motel room. Still feeling tired, even though she had already slept most of the day, Elle closed her eyes. She was almost asleep again, when Sam's voice oozed panic. Her eyes quickly focused on Sam who looked to Elle before he hung up the phone. Sam rushed over to his sister and pulled her to her feet, despite her groaning. He helped her over to a chair before he began shoving everything they had lying around the room into a duffel bag.

"We gotta go—we've been made," Sam said.

"What about Dean?" Elle questioned.

"He says they already spotted him. He's probably gonna do something idiotic to give us time to get the hell out of Dodge."

"I worry about him sometimes. Well—more like all the time."

"We'll have more time for worrying in the car."

Sam helped Elle get to the Impala. She was in a lot worse shape than she should be after that much sleep. She probably should have been admitted to a hospital if they had been in a normal situation. Elle slumped into the front seat before Sam slid in beside her through the driver's side. This was definitely a rare occurrence—especially given the past few years. The engine began to roar before Sam pulled out of the parking lot. They drove around for a while making sure that no one was on their tails before Sam decided to drive over to pay Joseph Welch a visit. Sam parked the car at the end of the driveway. He and Elle sat there in silence for a few moments before he awkwardly turned toward his sister.

"Do you wanna come with me or stay in the car?" Sam asked.

"That depends, do you need me to go with you or do you think you can handle it?" Elle responded with her own questions.

"I'm capable of asking a few questions, Elle. But I could always use your help. Just like old times."

"Well as much as I'd love a trip down Memory Lane, I think I'm gonna opt out."

"That's fine. Just wanted to make sure that you knew you had a choice. A choice to do either and that no matter what your decision was—it was the right decision."

"I have a feeling that's supposed to be deeper than here and now. But right now we need to get Joseph Welch to squeal—because now we're down Dad and Dean."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Sam opened the car door.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Tell Welch his wife's a bitch for me."

"You sound like Dean."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We used to have to pay you to cuss and swear."

"Ah—yes, my first job. Well, what can I say things change; but what doesn't change is that Constance is a bitch—or _loser_ if your sentimental heart is yearning for the good ol' days but loser hardly seems harsh enough."

"I'll be right back." Sam responded with a chuckle.

Sam reached over and ruffled Elle's hair—just like old times and she swatted at his hand—just like old times. The truth was she wasn't staying in the car because she was in so much pain. No, she had worked through physical pain before. She stayed in the car because she didn't want to fall back into the swing of things with Sam. She didn't want to get reacquainted with the how things used to be—only to have him leave again and go back to his life with Jess. About twenty minutes later, Sam marched back to the Impala.

"And?" Elle asked.

"And he's the reason Constance is a woman in white," Sam answered.

"He told you he was unfaithful?"

"Not exactly; but it was the way he said what he said. You could just tell, you know?"

"Why is it that whenever women do unimaginable, terrible things; a man is normally the root of her problem?"

"I have a feeling that's supposed to be deeper than here and now?" Sam said repeating her words from earlier.

"It's a freaking observation, that's all."

"Sorry for asking." Sam muttered.

"So, any idea how to get Dean out of jail?" Elle sighed.

"I have one, but it's pretty illegal."

"When has that ever stopped us?"

Sam chuckled as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Given his tone of voice, he must have called 911. Well, that and he gave a completely bogus speech about shots being heard on Whiteford Road, one of the roads they had just passed. Elle shook her head with a smirk—just like old times, whether she liked it or not. Sam's face had a broad grin when he finally hung up the phone.

"That should buy Dean some time," Sam smirked.

"Is this a tactic you plan on using with all your clients?' Elle said light heartedly.

"Only a select few," Sam said with a smile.

Elle have him a half-smile back before he returned his eyes to the road. About ten minutes later, Elle's phone began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw an unfamiliar number flash across the screen. She put it on speakerphone before she answered it so that Sam was in on the conversation in case it was Dean.

"Fake 911 phone call? I'm surprised Mr. Pre-Law there let you do it."

"Actually, I didn't. He did," Elle said.

"Sammy, I'm impressed. That sort of thing is illegal, isn't it?"

"You're welcome," Sam grinned.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean said.

"Tell me about it. So Welch _was_ unfaithful," Sam said.

"That means you were right about the woman in white thing," Elle added.

"But get this, man, she's buried behind her old house. So theoretically, that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Would you two shut up for a second? I mean I'm glad you're not at each other's throats and all—" Dean interrupted.

"But Elle and I can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam continued.

"Sammy, that's what I'm trying to tell you, if you'd give me a freaking second. He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean groaned.

"What? How do you know that?" Elle questioned.

"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Sam added.

"Yeah, well, I guess this time he did."

Elle froze at those words. Was this moment supposed to compare to the moment when Jericho's walls fell? Dad was gone and it felt like everything was coming crashing down. But now that the walls had fallen, what side was she on? Would she be like those inside the walls that died from the attack after or would she be like those who pillaged the place and came out on top of things, despite the overwhelming odds against them. She was probably over-analyzing the situation—drawing parallels where parallels weren't needed to be drawn; but she couldn't exactly help it. She completely missed out on the rest of the conversation between Sam and Dean. The only reason she was drawn out of her thoughts was because of the figure clad in white in the middle of the road in front of them.

"Sam!" Elle screamed.

Sam slammed on the brakes causing Elle to drop the phone. Constance was on the road in front of them; but Sam didn't stop fast enough. Instead the car went right through her before Sam brought the Impala to a halt. Dean's voice echoed from the phone which had flown into the backseat. Sam and Elle breathe hard for a moment before Elle turns toward the backseat to grab the phone, but she freezes.

"Take me home."

Constance was now in the backseat of the Impala.

"You have got to be shitting me," Elle groaned.

"Take me home!" Constance repeated in a harsher tone.

"No," Sam said breathing heavily.

"Take. Me. Home."

"I don't know that you've been told this recently, but you're stupid. I have boobs and no dick. You can't kill me. What's so hard to get about that?" Elle argued to Constance.

"She's a woman in white and it does take two to tango," Sam whispered.

Elle looked at Sam incredulously for what he was implying. She then turned back to Constance once again.

"I'm not a cheating whore either, you bitch."

Constance glared at them and then the doors locked themselves. Both Sam and Elle struggled to open them; but the locks wouldn't budge. The gas pedal pressed down and the car suddenly began to drive itself. Sam attempted to steer the car, but the wheel wouldn't follow what he was trying to make it to.

"Great Elle, you pissed her off even worse," Sam groaned.

"I can't help it the woman can't take a hint," Elle retorted. "I didn't sign up for the Magical Mystery Tour."

"Looks like you get a free ride."

Sam and Elle continued to try and open the doors; but their hard work was useless. Constance was controlling everything about the Impala and the two Winchester siblings had nothing to control Constance seeing as all their weapons were currently in the trunk. The Impala roared down the road and Elle's eyes flashed outside as they passed a sign for Breckenridge Road. She knew where Constance was taking them now. She was_ taking them home._ The car pulled up in front of Constance's old house and it stopped. The engine shut off and the lights dimmed. Sam attempted to plead once more with the woman in white and for a moment there, it sounded like there was a real sadness to her voice.

"I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home," Sam said.

Suddenly, Constance was no longer in the backseat. Elle gave a shrill scream when the woman in white appeared in the front seat between her and Sam. Maybe the woman had finally figured out that Elle wasn't _her type_ because she crawled onto Sam's lap. The woman begged Sam to hold her. Sam struggled to keep Constance from pressing what should have been her body close to his.

"You can't kill be. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!" Sam argued.

"You will be," Constance shrilled.

"What about Elle? She's not your type."

The woman white hissed before looking at Elle. Suddenly, the strings on her hooded sweatshirt began to wrap around her neck and pull tighter. Elle's fingers reached to her neck to try and get the strings off her neck; but she could feel herself beginning to choke. Constance didn't want Elle interfering as the woman in white begged Sam to hold her before she started kissing him. If Elle wasn't slowly becoming asphyxiated, she probably would have been completely disgusted that a dead person was trying to tongue her brother. Sam's name was the only thing Elle could say as she saw him struggle for something before he yelled out in pain. Next thing she knew, she heard the sound of a shotgun go off and suddenly the window to the car was shattered. That must have scared Constance off because Elle's sweatshirt strings fell limp and she could breathe again. It was Dean who was firing shots at Constance. Elle ducked down lower into the seat so that she wouldn't be a target. She also pulled her sweatshirt off, not wanting to give Constance the opportunity to strangle her with it again. Dean continued to fire until Constance disappeared again. Sam quickly managed to sit up before he started the car.

"Elle, stay low—we're taking her home."

Elle wasn't sure what Sam meant as the car lurched forward. She knew that there wasn't a road left in front of them. Only…the house. The Impala crashed through the side of the house. Shards of glass, splintered wood, and dust flew everywhere. Elle tried to cover herself with her sweatshirt until it finally all came to a stop. Dean rushed into the house after them.

"Sam! Elle! You guys okay?" Dean shouted.

"I think I am—" Sam groaned. "Elle?"

"Everything just hurts," Elle muttered. "And I still think she's a bitch."

Sam chuckled as Dean helped him out of the car. But before either boy could get to Elle, Constance decided she wasn't finished with them yet. A bureau moved from the wall to pin Sam and Dean against the car and the lights began to flicker. Elle could hear the sound of water pouring, but she had no idea where it was coming from. Great. Was Constance planning on drowning them now? Elle slowly climbed onto the seat again and when she looked out the window of the Impala, she saw to figures that looked like children hugging Constance. A piercing shrill echoed through the house until suddenly, Constance and the children were gone. Dean and Sam managed to push the bureau across the floor that had once held them pinned. The boys quickly rushed to Elle's side and each gave her a hand to help her out of the car. Feeling a little light-headed, she needed someone to lean against, so Elle leaned heavily against Dean. For a moment, Elle swore she could have saw a flash of jealousy flicker across Sam's face, but when she looked at him again, whatever she thought she saw was no longer there.

Dean, oblivious to what had just passed between his siblings brought Constance back up again. The reason she was too scared to go home was because it was where she had drowned her kids. Elle shivered slightly at the thought of being so distraught. Okay, so maybe in real-life, the woman wasn't as much of a bitch as she was in the afterlife; but she was still glad that they managed to gank Constance. Elle sighed as she leaned her head against Dean once more who took one look over at his car and shook his head.

"If you two screwed up my car, I'll kill the both of you."

She knew Dean was joking—sort of—but if she wouldn't have known her brother like she did, she would have thought that he was serious. After getting most of the crap out of the Impala and getting it out of the house again, Sam, Dean, and Elle hit the road again. Elle sprawled out in the backseat and welcomed sleep. She was awake long enough to hear Sam say something about Blackwater Ridge, Colorado; but she wasn't exactly sure the importance of it. Next thing she knew, she was asleep and dreaming. In her dream there was a lake, with a starry night's sky overhead that was mirrored on the water's surface. She recognized this place as probably one of her favorite places she had ever been—somewhere in northern Wisconsin—but the beauty of it all was enough to take her breath away. She came here often in her dreams. It was the one place she felt at peace despite her crazy life. Besides, it seemed like her inner-self found clarity here.

When Elle finally awoke, she remained rather quiet and reserved for the remainder of the car ride. She wasn't exactly sure what to say. Sam seemed almost nervous when they finally pulled up in front of his apartment. As Dean put the car in park, he frowned at Sam. Sam exhaled slowly before turned around toward his little sister.

"Elle-Belle, can I have a minute?" Sam asked.

"Um—yeah, I guess," Elle muttered.

Sam got out of the door and Elle pushed the seat forward and followed behind him. Dean gave her a look of confusion to which she responded with an eyebrow raise at him. Elle hadn't a clue what this was about—but whatever it was, Sam didn't want Dean involved. Dean gave some snarky comment about just waiting there as Sam closed the door behind Elle. Elle folded her arms across her chest as she looked up at her tall brother, who had put his hands in his coat pockets.

"Elle, stay," Sam said.

"Here? With you and your girlfriend?" Elle questioned.

"Yeah, you'll be safe here. I promise."

"What about Dad? What about Dean?"

"They know how to fend for themselves. It's you I worry about. I made a mistake by not dragging you out here with me last time. I won't make the same mistake twice."

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words from you."

"Good, so we'll just go tell Dean that you're staying."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean that I'm not staying with you. Sam, you don't know me anymore. You have no reason to tell me what I can and can't do."

"But Dean can?"

"Dean never left me and so I won't do it to him. You have no idea what you leaving did to him."

"Don't you get it? That life isn't safe and it certainly isn't for you. Dean's only human and he can't always be looking out for you."

"I'm more than capable of holding my own."

"You do realize how many times you almost died on this little excursion, right?" Sam argued.

"Because you were throwing things off. Dean and I-we have a system."

"Elle, think rationally about this."

"I am, Sam. Things aren't like 'the good ol' days' when it seemed like it was us against the world. I don't know you anymore and I don't know that I even trust you anymore. For years I wanted you to come for me—like a knight in shining armor—but more in a brotherly way, of course; but now that you have—I have to confess that I'm disappointed."

"Elle, I—"

"Dean's waiting, Sam. Why don't we just pick this up again, next time—in like five years. That should be long enough for you to live normally without us bothering you."

Elle sharply turned on her heel and marched back to the Impala. She focused on not crying. She didn't want to give Sam the satisfaction of being able to influence her emotions like that and she didn't want Dean to get involved either. Her eyes stung, so Elle wiped at them. She was about to open the car door when she looked backward to see Sammy just standing there in confusion. This wasn't the outcome he had pictured but he also hadn't anticipated Elle being so hostile toward him. Their relationship really had changed and unlike Dean, Elle wasn't willing to pick up right where they left off. Elle slid into the front seat of the car and focused straight ahead, but she knew that Dean's eyes were on her.

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Elle said stubbornly.

Dean didn't say anything else to her because Sam had walked around to his side of the car and leaned through the window.

"Call me if you find him, all right?"

Dean nodded his head, but Elle refused to look at Sam. Sam slowly nodded his head before he backed away from the car. He patted the car door twice before he turned away. Dean called after Sam and told him that the three of them made hell of a team. Surprisingly, Sam agreed; but Elle refused to even look at Sam. Dean found this rather odd; but he pulled away, leaving Sam behind. Dean looked over at Elle and shook his head.

"Nothing my ass."

That was all Dean said. He probably just assumed that Elle would tell him eventually—but she wasn't sure that she ever would. Dean seemed to have enjoyed his time with Sam and Elle didn't want to ruin that by telling him that Sam wanted her to leave him. Elle leaned her elbow against the door and rested her head against her hand. The sooner they got the hell out of Dodge, the sooner things would hopefully go back to normal. Although, she never should that let that thought cross her mind because as soon as she did, the radio began to go in and out and it's light began to flicker. Dean looked to Elle before he looked to his watch, which had stopped ticking.

"Sam." Dean and Elle breathed simultaneously.

Dean tightly gripped the steering wheel, causing the Impala to make a U-turn. Elle's knuckles whitened as her grasp on the door tightened. At this moment she hoped—even prayed that it wasn't Sam, but her gut feeling told her that it was. What if Sam's last memory of her—was of her being a bitch to him? She wasn't sure that she could live with herself if he was dead. Dean parked the car and told Elle to stay put before he took off inside. Elle worriedly sat in the Impala as she saw a flash of fire come from inside. Her stomach plummeted. Oh shit. Definitely not good. For several minutes, Elle just sat there-hoping, praying that her brothers were all right. Finally, she saw Dean emerge with his arm wrapped around Sam who appeared to be fighing to go back inside. But it was too late. Elle didn't see Jess. Had she gone the same way Mom had? She didn't know much about it-but things seemed eerily similar. This was more than just a coinsidence-it was a sign.

As the police and firefighters began to arrive, Elle slowly made her way out of the car and walked toward her brothers. She wasn't sure what to do in this situation. She should be reaching out to Sam-but things were more than jsut a little awkward between the two of them. Elle stood beside Dean in silence. Dean must have noticed the silence because he nudged Elle. She saw Sam look at her, but she just turned her face away in shame, which caused Sam's facial expression to harden a little more. He muttered something about where Dean parked the car before he walked away from them. Dean looked over his shoulder to watch Sam walk away—giving the guy his space. He then turned to Elle, whose eyes were focused on the building—the very building she could have been in, if she hadn't been such a bitch about things. Dean wrapped an arm around his sister and pulled her close. Elle breathed heavily.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with you two?"

"Honestly, I don't even know anymore. I feel that things just went from bad to worse and it's mainly my fault."

"I know I'm no Dr. Phil—but you should probably talk to him."

"You're right, you're not Dr. Phil."

"Just talk to him. He's needs us right now. Both of us."

Elle and Dean walked back to the Impala where they found Sam standing behind the open trunk. He held a shotgun in his hand, loading it with rounds. Dean and Elle stopped beside him, but neither said anything. They just let Sam do, whatever it was he thought he needed to do. Sam looked up and them before he sighed and tossed the shotgun back into the trunk. Elle took a step closer toward her mourning brother.

"Sam, I—"Elle stammered unsure of what to say, especially after the way she left him.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Sam muttered. "We got work to do."

Elle looked to Dean, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say _give it some time. _Sam slammed the trunk shut before all three Winchesters took their old positions in the Impala. Everything had changed.

* * *

**Author's note: And there we have it—another chapter! First of all, I'd like to thank all of you who have read/followed/favorited/reviewed. As a fandom, you're very very welcoming. Truly, your response was overwhelming—to the point that I was slightly terrified to write this chapter because I didn't want to disappoint y'all. So, I hope that you at least somewhat enjoyed the second chapter and seeing how Elle fits into the story. There's definitely going to be some issues to work out ahead! Haha. Also, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm hoping to update every week or two. So, thanks again for coming down this crazy road with me (and Elle)!**

**Snn7b: **Thanks! I'm glad that you like it! I don't plan on stopping—but updates will be slower than some of the stories I see on here. I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I need to get everything fleshed out before I update. Haha. Thanks for reviewing!

**AmericanAsFuck: **I'm flattered that you enjoyed my first chapter. I hope that this one was at least tolerable. ;) I'm glad that you think Elle is "Winchester" definitely something I tried to work on—and yet still make her different from Sam and Dean. Not the easiest thing to do! Thanks for taking the time to review!

**Guest (1):** Yay! I'm glad that you like it and Elle/Dean's relationship! Things are definitely going to be thrown for a loop now that Sam is back—but I wanted you guys to at least get a glimpse of where things were. Thanks for taking the time to write a review for my little story!

**Hidden Journey:** Awww…thanks for already liking Elle after only one chapter! That means a lot to me. She does fit in well with her brothers—but they're Winchesters and they are going to have their issues. We'll get to see what's going on with her relationship with John eventually.

**Guest (2):** Thank you! I'm glad that Elle is so far living up to expectations. She's gonna be frustrating just like the brothers at times—but that's part of being a Winchester, right? Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Claire3loves3music:** I'm glad you're liking it. It was my hope that someone would. :) I'm trying not to make Elle Mary-Sue-ish; but please forgive me these first few chapters as I get rolling on things. I'm sure I'm bound to mess up seeing as this is my first attempt at a Supernatural story. As far as her relationships with her brothers vary—I think you got a hint of that this chapter. Things are—complicated—to say the least. Thanks for the review!

**SkippingPumpkin:** Done. Happy?


	3. Wendigo

_**Us Against the World**_

By January Lily

* * *

_The tightrope that I'm walking just sways and ties_

* * *

**Chapter 3: Wendigo**

Elle sat crossed-legged in the back of the Impala as they sped down some highway headed toward Blackwater Ridge, Colorado. The only sound inside the car was Dean's music. To say that this past week, the week following Jess's death had been awkward for the three Winchesters would have been an understatement. Sam flat-out refused to have almost anything to do with Elle—it seemed like he was taking out his anger on his sister. If she walked in on a conversation that he was having with Dean, things would suddenly get quiet. Or if they were forced to be in the same room, Sam made it blatantly obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her by facing the opposite direction. Sam was being childish and stubborn; but that didn't make Elle a saint about things either. If Sam was going to play that game-she could play it better. Of course, the behaviors of the two youngest Winchesters did nothing to keep Dean sane. He wasn't exactly sure what to do. He needed Elle to stop acting like a little bitch to Sam—but how long was Sam going to go through this grieving process? The past week of trying to track down any clues about Jess's death had been absolutely useless and Dean knew that staying in that town—where Jess died—where Sam and Elle had their huge blowout fight—wasn't going to help them. Being the oldest—and wisest—Dean made a family decision for the three of them to hit the road and head for Colorado. This was what he needed to do to keep his siblings from killing each other, not to mention to keep his sanity. Who would've thought that ganking whatever the hell was out there would be a way to stay sane? But with the situation being what it was—it was the only way he figured things could get somewhat back to normal or as close to normal as possible.

Sam suddenly bolted upright and looked around the car. He must have been asleep. Not wanting to catch her brother's eye, she reached down toward the floor for her backpack. As Dean began to interrogate Sam about how he was doing, Elle pulled out her sketchbook and pencil to distract herself. She knew that attempting to draw in the car was practically useless, but she needed something to busy herself with. She flipped to her most recent sketch—a drawing of Constance aka the Woman in White. Some might consider it a terrible habit—the fact that after they ganked whatever it was they were after—she would sketch a picture of it. She wasn't a great artist by any means, but it was a way she found a sort of release. Besides, it was one thing she at least knew she was better at than her brothers. One of the few things in life where she came out on top. As Sam and Dean continued to talk, Elle shaded Constance's hair a bit darker with her pencil. Constance was probably the one thing she had hunted that she had a personal sense of hatred for. Normally, it wasn't good in this business to get emotionally attached to anything—whether in a good or bad sense—it could prove to be one's downfall. With a sigh Elle set her sketchbook down as she heard Dad being brought into the conversation. Sam was convinced that they needed to see Dad immediately but Dean argued that they needed to follow Dad's coordinates he had given them. Elle was hesitant to agree with either of them because it would somehow come back to bite her in the ass. Either way both of her brothers agreed that they needed to find Dad—something she fully supported. Deep down, Elle hoped that they would find their father and that maybe he would let her hunt with him. That maybe he would let her prove herself to him and then he would finally express the sentiments she had waited years for.

"Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?" Sam asked.

"It's Dad—you think you would have learned by now to stop asking stupid questions," Elle commented sarcastically.

"Elle," Dean hissed. "Shut up."

"You think you would have learned by now that Dad doesn't give a shit," Sam said as he turned around toward his sister, ignoring Dean.

"Didn't you just say that we need to find him? Hypocrite much?" Elle retorted.

"Just because I said that we need to find him doesn't mean I'm not realistic about the situation—unlike you."

"If I'm being unrealistic than you're just as bad maybe even worse—thinking you could live an apple-pie life and somehow not drag an innocent person into all of this."

Elle instantly regretted those words as soon as they came out of her mouth. That was low—and she knew it. She actually liked Jess, but now she was using her as a gimmick to shove in her brother's face. Sam's jaw was set and Dean didn't look any happier about what she said, but he was keeping his mouth shut because he knew that the two of them had to hash things out some time or another. Besides, wasn't that part of his purpose for the whole trip? But no one spoke for a moment—trying to process the harsh words that had just been spoken. It was Sam who faced the front again that finally broke the silence as they drove past the National Forest sign that read "Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest."

"Well that plan's gone to hell, hasn't it?"

"Sam—I didn't mean—"

"You said them, Elle. So somewhere deep inside—you meant them."

"Don't go all Freudian slip on me. People say things they don't mean."

Sam didn't respond.

"Sam," Elle pleaded. "I'm sorry. God, how many more times do I have to say it? I'm sorry."

"That's just it Elle—you haven't said it. At least not a time that I believed it."

"Because you won't let me."

"Dr. Phil's going to have to be continued later because we're here," Dean interrupted as the Impala came to a stop. "Do we need the leave your shit in the car while in public speech for the two of you?"

"You're one to talk," Elle scoffed.

"Hey man, I'll behave if she does," Sam offered.

"Real mature," Elle hissed.

"Sam! Elle! I don't want to do this but—" Dean started, but before Dean could finish his sentence, both Sam and Elle were already out of the car and had slammed their car doors on him. "Who would've thought that I'd actually be the mature one."

Elle made a face to Dean through the window to hurry up as she and Sam walked a distance a ways from each other toward the Ranger station. Dean muttered under his breath. Did he really have to do everything? He just hoped this cold war between Sam and Elle would be over with soon. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take—because he didn't want to take sides—it would only make things worse. He knew that the longer they stretched this out—the more likely he was to have to choose a side. Dean quickly fixed his hair using the rearview mirror before he stepped out of the car and caught up to Elle who was a few paces behind Sam.

"Don't say anything, Dean," Elle said rather shortly.

"Who said I was gonna say something?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Because I know you—not to mention that I already know what you're gonna say anyway. 'Quit being a little bitch, Elle.' Well, I'm not doing it on purpose, Dean. So just save your breath."

"Actually, I was just gonna ask if you thought this place had any beer."

Elle rolled her eyes at Dean. She knew he was lying about the beer thing—well, he was probably using it as a cover up; but she knew him better than that. After all, she had spent her whole damn life with him—she knew most of his tells by this point. Surprisingly, Sam actually held the door open for her; but it was probably because there was a little old lady in front of her and he didn't want to look like a dick in front of the elderly woman. Elle muttered her thanks to Sam, but was careful to avoid any eye contact with him as she stepped into the rustic decorated Ranger Station. She looked around and moved slowly behind the old lady to the 3D map of the national forest. Sam must have had the same idea as her because they both reached the display at the same time. The siblings looked to each other awkwardly before Dean slapped both of their shoulders before he gave them a warning.

"Play nice."

That was all Dean said before he walked around and mimicked the faces of the stuffed mounts on the wall. Elle shook her head at Dean before she looked to Sam as she pushed a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear. She looked at him innocently, biting her bottom lip. She should say something, right?

"I—um—I suppose it couldn't hurt to have two sets of eyes on this," Elle commented lightly.

"I was—uh—thinking the same thing," Sam said.

"Good, Dean probably can't read the damn thing."

"I heard that!" Dean called.

That managed a choked back chuckle from Sam before he focused his eyes on her seriously.

"But this doesn't change anything, Elle. We're going to work together for Dean—and to find Dad—but you and me—"

"Yeah, I get it."

Elle defensively folded her arms across her chest as she looked away from Sam and back to the map.

"So it's looking like Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam said.

Sam pointed to the ridge appropriately labeled Blackwater Ridge. Elle nodded her head as she looked to where he pointed. She traced her fingers along the ridge and slid down what was a steep fall before looking to Sam once more.

"It's cut off by these canyons right here—" Elle started.

"And according to the legend, it's also rough terrain and dense forest in the area too. Not to mention the abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place," Sam added.

"Think we can get rich quick?" Elle joked.

"They're abandoned for a reason," Sam said flatly.

"I was just kidding," Elle sighed. "Trying to lighten the mood."

"Don't—just work. That's all."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear." Dean said in amazement.

Surprisingly, Sam and Elle had the same reaction. They both shook their heads before looking to each to each other—just like old times—but when they made eye contact with the other they quickly looked a different direction before walking over to the picture Dean was examining. Sam and Elle each stood at one of Dean's sides. Seemingly, ignoring the tension between his siblings, Dean pointed to the picture where a man stood behind a much larger bear.

"You know what? That almost looks like a picture of the two of you," Dean teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elle squealed. Was her brother really comparing her actions to that of a killer bear?

"You know because Elle's so short and Sammy's so tall."

"Thanks for clarifying," Elle groaned.

"Hilarious man. Real hilarious," Sam said sarcastically.

"You two need to quit acting like sour-pusses, otherwise we're never going to solve the damn case," Dean said.

"Dean, you do realize that there are a dozen or more of those grizzlies in the area. The place is no nature hike," Sam said.

"I'm sure I can always offer you both as a peace offering to the ferocious beast," Dean said with a shrug. "Then the bears can deal with you both."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by chance?"

Sam, Elle, and Dean all turned around to see a man in his forest ranger attire standing behind them. His name tag read Wilkinson and he didn't appear to have the friendliest of expressions on his face. None of the Winchesters answered his question, so he repeated himself. The three Winchesters looked between each other before Sam was the one to bite the bullet.

"Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper," Sam said.

"A freaking insanely long paper," Elle added. "How our professor expects the three of us to work together is beyond me."

"Recycle, man!" Dean grinned raising a fist.

"See, what I mean?" Elle asked the ranger. "He's just a pretty face. No brains."

"Bull," the ranger said in a rather scathing tone.

"See, even he can tell that I'm more than just a pretty face. I'm the total package," Dean added leaning toward Elle as he reached for where his boobs should be, if he was a girl, with his hands. "They're real by the way."

"That's not what I meant," the ranger said stiffly. "You three are friends with that Haley girl, aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes we are, Ranger—" Dean said removing his hands from his _'breasts'_, as he checked out the nametag." Wilkinson."

"Yeah, you caught us—Haley and I go like _way_ back," Elle added.

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons, now is it?" Wilkinson stated.

"Haley's quite a pistol, isn't she?" Dean grinned.

"That's putting it mildly," Ranger Wilkinson said shaking his head.

Well—what could help us is if you'd get us a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean commented. "You know—to show her."

The ranger looked to Dean with his eyebrows raised before he shook his head. Dean raised his eyebrows back at the man, fumbling to come up with a response to his rejection. Elle rolled her eyes and took a step closer to the ranger, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up at the man innocently.

"Do you have a sister, Ranger Wilkinson?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—got two of 'em."

"See the thing about sisters is that we worry about our brothers. We know they're supposed to be the strong ones and whatnot, but sometimes we just get a feeling in our gut that something's wrong. Haley has that feeling, she just needs something to tell her the contrary of what her gut is telling her," Elle rambled.

"Like I said before, miss. The permit says the twenty-fourth; so you tell that poor girl to quit her worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"I'm sure you're right sir—but Haley's the kind of girl that needs some sort of proof—something solid to go off of—maybe if we could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. This way she could see with her own eyes her brother's return date—maybe it will help a little keep her from pestering you for at least a few days."

Ranger Wilkinson looked at Elle, who was using her sad-looking blue eyes to her advantage, before he looked to Sam and Dean. He looked like he was about to say, no when he looked back to Elle—then something changed. Her look must have gotten to him because he muttered something about just like his little sister before he moved to find the binder with the backcountry permits. Dean refused to meet Elle's gaze while she looked at him rather smugly. Wilkinson handed over the copy over to Elle before she flashed him a grin and thanked him. The three Winchesters then headed for the Impala. Once outside, Elle held the copy of the permit behind her head and Dean snatched it from her hands.

"You're welcome," Elle said.

"I was doing just fine without you," Dean responded.

"Yeah, your boobs really get you places," Elle retorted sarcastically.

"Don't judge my boobs," Dean commented.

"Guys, as much as I hate to interrupt this conversation—what the hell are we supposed to do with that? It doesn't tell us crap," Sam interrupted.

"It tells us, _Tommy_ here's, address," Dean answered.

"By Tommy, he means Haley," Elle quipped.

"No, you don't say. It's like you know me or something."

"What are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam questioned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean questioned.

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know—maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?"

"What? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me."

"Sam's right you liar, you just want to see if Haley's hot," Elle interrupted. "Because then maybe you can score some sympathy sex."

"I'm offended you would think that highly of me," Dean shot back. "Besides, Sammy—since when are you all shoot first ask questions later anyway?"

"Since now," Sam responded.

"Really?" Dean grunted. "If this has to do with you two—"

Both Sam and Elle hopped into the Impala and slammed their doors shut before Dean could finish what he was saying. Dean made a gesture as if he were asking why, up toward the sky. Not that he believed in all that; but still. He just needed things to get back to normal with Sam and Elle—for the Winchester Cold War to cease and desist. One second they were civilly working together against him and the next they were playing tug-of-war with him. Dean exhaled slowly before sliding into the tension in the Impala. The car ride to Haley Collins' house was completely silent—awkwardly silent. The silence was slowly beginning to drive Elle insane—but her stubbornness refused to let her cave into Sam. Hadn't she done what she could and it still wasn't enough for him? She knew that even if it was for Dean's sanity she should just get over it—but she just couldn't. She probably got that from her father. Instead, Elle ran her fingers through her hair in frustration and sighed when Dean stopped the car outside a house she assumed belonged to this Haley Collins person. Elle leaned forward and placed her outstretched hand near Sam.

"ID me," Elle said.

Without looking at her Sam leaned forward and dug one of Elle's ID badges out of the glove compartment. He placed it in her hand before continuing to dig for badges for himself and Dean. Elle examined her badge momentarily and for a brief second she wondered what it would be like if the life she lived wasn't an entire lie. As much as she hated to admit it—she was torn between wanting a normal life and the approval of her father. Sadly, both of which she would probably never get. With a sigh, she put the badge into her jeans pocket before she looked between Sam and Dean, as she leaned forward against the front seat of the Impala. She rested her chin against the seat as Sam handed Dean a badge. Dean motioned for them to exit the car before the walked up the drive to the Collins' residence. Elle squeezed herself between Sam and Dean and stopped them before they went up the stairs by holding her hands out in front of them.

"Let me talk to her. I have experience at losing a brother," Elle stated.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of dig?" Sam scoffed.

"No," Elle groaned. "I'm just saying that I can empathize with her. She's more likely to talk to someone who can relate to her. That's all I meant by it; but if you have to read more into it—I can't stop you."

"Elle c'mon, can any woman resist this face?" Dean asked as he made a circle around his face with his fingers trying to diffuse the tension between his siblings.

"Your charms are useless on me and I'm a woman," Elle retorted.

"We've been over this before—you don't count."

"Guys, there's an easy way to solve who gets to talk to her," Sam sighed.

"Ladies first?" Elle questioned.

"Yeah right—the oldest gets to decide and I choose me," Dean scoffed.

"Try old school rock, paper, scissors," Sam said shaking his head.

Elle couldn't help but smirk to herself before she looked to Sam. He had suggested it on purpose because they both knew that Dean always picked scissors. It was almost too much to hope for that Sam was actually siding with her on this—then again, logically it made sense. It would take less time for Elle to get some facts out of the girl than it would for Dean to try and hook up with the girl. Predictably, Dean chose scissor and Elle picked rock. She crushed Dean's scissors with her fist before smirked up at Dean. Dean swore under his breath as Elle marched up to the house and rang the doorbell. Elle looked to Dean, who appeared quite peeved, as they waited for someone to answer the door. The front door swung open, revealing a dark haired woman behind the screen door.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"You must be Haley Collins. I'm Elle. They're Dean and Sam. We're ah—" Elle began.

"Park rangers," Dean coughed.

"Really? I'm not completely incompetent."

Elle glared at Dean before she rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Haley.

"Ranger Wilkinson sent us over to ask you a few questions about Tommy."

Haley looked to the three of them hesitantly.

"Lemme see some ID," Haley said before she moved closer to the screen door.

The three Winchesters held their fake IDs up against the screen. Haley quickly glanced between the three ID badges, but examined Elle's a little more carefully. The girl glanced several times between Elle and her fake ID.

"You look a little young to be with the Park Service," Haley said to Elle.

"First job, fresh out of college ma'am. It would really mean a lot to me if you could help me out even a little. Between you and me, Wilkinson's a pain in my ass and I would really like to come back to him with _something_ so I can lose having these two tailing my every move. I can hardly do my job with them constantly scrutinizing everything I do."

Haley looked to Sam and Dean before she nodded her head in understanding and invited them inside. Before Haley led them further inside the house, she looked outside and spotted the Impala. She asked Elle if it was hers; but when Elle said that the car belonged to Dean, Haley's impression of Dean seemed to change. Of course, Dean, gloated with a smirk on his face as Haley seemed to check him out. Sam and Elle couldn't help but look to each other with a slight look of disgust on their faces; but when they realized that they were falling back into their old routine of looking to each other when Dean was acting full of himself, they both quickly looked away sheepishly. Dean pushed past Sam and Elle, to be closer to Haley as she led them back to the kitchen where boy, not much younger than Elle, sat at the table with a laptop. Haley introduced the boy as her brother Ben. Ben's eyes flashed from the computer screen to Elle before he grinned her direction. Dean not missing what had just occurred turned his head to Sam and mouthed something which caused Sam to roll his eyes. Elle moved to sit in the chair beside Tommy, but Dean blocked her path and sat down in the chair himself before he pointed to the chair furthest away from Ben.

"Seriously?" Elle scoffed.

"Can't have you gettin' distracted on the job, now can we?" Dean responded before he turned to Ben. "How old are you"

"What does that have to do with finding Tommy?" Ben questioned.

"Just answer the question," Dean muttered.

"We—we just need to establish a base for truth with questioning so we start with questions we already know the answers to," Sam added.

"You guys really don't believe us do you?" Ben asked.

"Like my partner said, we need to—uh—whatever it was that he said," Dean responded.

"Establish a base for truthful answers," Elle sighed.

"Yeah, that— So if you want our help, you better answer our questions. All of our questions."

"Just do as they say, Ben. We need their help," Haley sighed.

"Nineteen. I'm nineteen—but I'm assuming you already know that," Ben responded.

"Nineteen. A little young to be flirting with my ranger, aren't you?"

"Is that an actual question? What kind of park ranger are you?"

"He's joking. This one has quite the sense of humor, doesn't he?" Elle said forcing a chuckle before she punched Dean hard in the arm. She hadn't been expecting him to flinch as much as he did.

"So—uh—if Tommy's not due back for a while according to his permit, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked, taking over the interview.

"Finally, a question that actually applies to our situation," Ben groaned which caused Haley to gently smack her younger brother in the back of the head.

"What Ben means to say is that Tommy checks in every day by cell. He emails pictures and these stupid little videos—he's a dork like that. A dork, but responsible-and now we haven't heard anything in over three days now," Haley responded.

"Maybe he can't get cell reception," Sam suggested.

"He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean asked.

"Dean, Haley already said that he was the responsible type," Elle retorted.

"That doesn't matter, Elle," Sam started. "Sometimes a guy's just got to get away from everything for a while."

"Leave everything, including a sister and brother? Well, not being a guy, I suppose I wouldn't understand that."

"No, I guess you wouldn't."

There was an awkward silence that came over the group as Sam and Elle seemed to glare at each other. The comments spoken between them were more dealing with the Winchester family drama—than the Collins. Dean cleared his throat and asked for a glass of water to try and ease the tension in the room. Haley nodded her head and turned the tap on before sticking the glass under the running water. She handed the cup to Dean before she brought a couple plates of food over to the table. Haley sat back down and looked between Sam and Elle, both of whom were nibbling on the food she had brought, attempting to ignore the other.

"There's probably something that you should know to understand Tommy and his situation better. Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We're all we have, so we keep pretty close tabs on each other."

"I understand that," Elle said sympathetically placing her hand on Haley's. "Believe me, I do; but as much as I hate to admit it, Sam does make a fair point. Sometimes, they just leave despite family being all they have. Boys do stupid things."

"Let me show you something and you decide for yourself about him. I think you'll see what I'm saying."

Haley made a motion toward Ben to pass the laptop over to her. Reluctantly, Ben pushed the computer in Haley's direction and she pulled up some pictures. Haley tilted the computer so that Elle could see better. Sam and Dean moved to stand behind the girls as Haley flipped through several pictures of Tommy. Haley pointed him out in a group shot with some other guys. Elle had to admit, the guy was cute—well, more than cute, but now really wasn't the most appropriate time to think such things. Besides, the guy could be dead for all they knew. Not to mention that it was better not to form an emotional attachment in their line of work. Too many people died—and it seemed easier to not grow overly attached. Haley clicked to a video that he had sent the last time he communicated. Tommy didn't seem to be showing any signs of distress. In fact, to the normal untrained eye, things seemed practically normal.

"We'll find him," Elle said squeezing Haley's hand. "Brothers always seem to find their way back. Sometimes, they just need a proverbial push to find the right direction."

Elle wasn't sure why she said that last part: whether out of hopefulness or spite. Either way, she couldn't bring herself to look at Sam because to be honest, she wasn't sure how he was processing it. Dean cleared his throat before he folded his arms across his chest.

"We'll be heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing tomorrow," Dean said.

"Then maybe I'll you there," Haley responded. "I know it probably sounds crazy, but I can't just sit around here anymore doing nothing. So, I hired a guy to take me up there and help me find him. I'm going to head out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I have an idea how you feel."

"He's lucky to have a sister like you," Elle smiled.

"One who's willing to go after go after him no matter how dangerous," Sam said much to Elle's surprise. How exactly was she supposed to take that? Was he complimenting Haley or backhanding her or both?

"That's what family does, isn't it?" Haley responded reaching for Ben's shoulder.

"Yeah—or at least they should," Elle sighed.

"Hey—so um—would you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked uncomfortably changing the subject.

"Sure," Haley said with a nod of her head.

Haley emailed Sam the pictures and videos of Tommy. The Winchesters then left the Collins' place before heading out to one of the local bars for dinner and beer. They found an empty table and a pretty blonde waitress came over and couldn't seem to take her eyes off Dean. This annoyed Elle, so she interrupted the eye sex going on with her order. The waitress did not seem happy; but she took all three Winchesters' orders and then left to place it. While they waited for their order, Sam pulled Dad's journal out of his bag and placed it on the table. Elle reached for it and began flipping through it.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam commented before he took the journal from Elle's hands. "Mostly local campers; but there were two hikers that went missing and were never found."

"Usually when you say they went missing, it's assumed that they weren't found," Elle retorted.

"Really, are you looking for an argument?" Sam groaned as he slammed Dad's journal to the table.

"I'm just saying—God, Sam, it's what I do. If you knew me anymore, you would know that."

"Guys," Dean muttered.

"You're such a god-damn hypocrite Elle," Sam growled. "You say that it's not possible for me to know you, so shouldn't it be the same for you about me?"

"No, because I know you, Sam. I've known you my entire life," Elle argued.

"Exactly my point! I've known you your entire life."

"Guys—c'mon," Dean hissed.

"But where your argument falls short is that you're still the same stubborn, egotistical asshole you always were. I on the other hand had to change and grow-up once you left," Elle said in finality as she stood to her feet. "If I didn't know any better—I'd say you were just like Dad and we both know he doesn't give a shit about me."

"Well, this isn't about you," Sam said also getting to his feet.

"Exactly my point," Elle said struggling to hold back the tears.

With tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, Elle turned her back on her brothers before walking to a different table on the other side of the bar. She needed some space from them—well, more Sam; but Dean wasn't exactly helping matters by not picking a side. She could hear Dean cussing a bit as she walked away. Once at the table, she pulled out her sketchbook and looked at the picture she had done of her mother. If only Mom hadn't died. Maybe then they could have had completely normal lives. She certainly wouldn't be in her current situation if Mom was still alive. With a sigh, Elle flipped to an empty page and began to sketch the face she couldn't get out of her head: Tommy Collins. There was just something about the guy that she couldn't quite peg that she empathized with.

"Hey, that actually kinda looks like Tommy."

Elle flipped her head quickly, cracking her neck in the process, to see Ben Collins standing beside her table. Without asking for her permission, he took a seat across from her. She didn't even need to look the other direction to know that Sam and Dean had noticed him. She could practically feel their gazes upon her—but when she looked their direction, they quickly looked away and at the laptop Sam had pulled out. Elle returned her attention to her sketchbook, switching to a different drawing. Well, one that Ben wouldn't recognize.

"Are you just going to ignore me?" Ben asked.

"That was the plan."

"Are you rangers always this grumpy?"

"When you have to work with those two," Elle said pointing to Sam and Dean. "Yes. Now what are you doing here, Ben?"

"Followed you guys. Wanted to see if you had any leads that you weren't sharing."

"That's not creepy at all."

"You honestly don't strike me as a park ranger."

"It's not like I wanted to be doing the job I am. If things were different, I certainly wouldn't be doing this; but my dad—"

"Not to make things awkward—but you should feel lucky that you even have your dad around."

Elle bit her tongue, holding back the retort she wanted to use because she understood what he was saying. Hell, she had probably even used the same line a couple times when people went on about their mothers. But in all honesty, she didn't have her father. She never really did—and that was something she wanted more than anything. She wanted him to see her the way he saw Dean—hell, even Sam: with some sort of speck of pride. But there was no point in arguing her point with Ben. She didn't know him. She wasn't going to get to know him. When this job was all said and done, she would continue on with her life: never looking back. It sucked not having any real relationships beyond those of her brothers—which currently were strained—making yearn for any sort of relationship. Elle sighed as she glanced toward Ben before she returned her focus to her sketchbook. In the corner of her eye, she saw Dean motioning her toward them. She was about to put her sketchbook in her back when Ben snatched it from her hands. She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. She knew what he was trying to get at: taking her things so that she would have to come back. If that didn't scream desperate, she didn't know what did. Elle walked toward Dean and stopped at the boys' table. As she approached it, Sam abruptly stood up and walked toward the bar. Elle assumed he wanted to get away from her but was using paying the tab as an excuse. She then turned her attention back to Dean with her arms folded across her chest defensively..

"What do you want?" Elle snapped. "I moved away from you two for a reason."

"What's the kid doing here?" Dean asked lowly.

"Following us. Seems to this we're not sharing our leads with him or so he says."

"Smart kid. Too smart for his own good," Dean said before growing quiet for a moment. He then turned to Elle. "Keep him distracted."

"Excuse me?" Elle questioned.

"You know—keep doing that girlie thing you do and distract him while Sam and I go check up on a lead."

"Wait a minute, why do I have to distract him? You're the one whose always flaunting your—uhm—assets."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. He's into you, that much is obvious. Just go with it. Besides, if I stayed you and Sam would probably kill each other before learning a damn thing."

"So you're pimping me out now?" Elle hissed.

"Sam and I are not being compensated for your work, so I don't see how it qualifies," Dean said with a smirk.

"I thought you were completely against him even talking to me earlier. Something about him being too young for me."

"You into him or something?"

"Good God, no. He's the annoying little brother I never wanted. I just want to understand what the hell you want from me."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem. Like I said, keep him distracted. We don't need him following us over to this Shaw guy's place and you're the only one he seems to be interested in."

"I hate being the distraction."

Elle begrudgingly made her way back to Ben and her sketchbook. He seemed pretty impressed by her work. Honestly, she didn't think it was much; but it felt good to be complimented nonetheless. Either he was just a nice guy or looking for a hook-up. Given what she knew about guys, from her brothers—she assumed the latter. His hand brushed against hers as he handed her back her sketchbook, causing her eyes to flash up toward him once more.

"I—uh—I think your partners _want you_," Ben said.

"Excuse me? I would never sleep with either of them or you for that matter. Disgusting," Elle snapped.

"Not what I meant. They're watching us again. And that was freaking harsh."

"Oh my God." Elle's hand immediately flew to her mouth. "Look, Ben, I'm sure you're a great guy; but I don't do that."

"Relationships or hooking up?"

"Both. I have brothers who will kill anyone that even looks at me wrong. Believe me; I've seen bad things happen to decent guys. Especially ones just looking to score. Consider it me looking out for you, an act of kindness."

"You really think that bad of me?"

"If you have another reason, I'm all ears."

"Since we seem to be in the speaking what's on your mind mood—Honestly, Haley's driving me crazy and you kinda remind me of Tommy. That's all."

"I am such an idiot. I thought you were hitting on me and sometimes things just come out of my mouth. Word vomit, basically. If I could think of a non-awkward way to apologize, I would—but-"

"They're still glaring."

"I'll be right back and I will attempt to atone for my awkwardness. I promise."

With her face growing redder and redder, Elle walked toward her partners who were standing by the door. She replayed the conversation she just had in her head. Talk about embarrassing. While Dean's tallies on his scorecard were too many to count these days, hers was zilch, nadda, zero; something she knew Dean worked very hard to keep that way, which seemed hypocritical. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by it, it more just awkward being the twenty-one year old virgin, especially when she got compared to her more—uh-_experienced_ brothers. She fanned at her face as she stopped in front of her brothers. Sam once again seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Whatever. If he was going to act like an immature preschooler, then fine, she could do the same thing and ignore him too. She looked to Dean, continuing to fan her flaming face.

"What the hell do you want now? I'm sort of busy at the moment."

"Just wanted to tell you to meet us at the motel," Dean said.

"You couldn't have said that in a text like a normal person?"

"Well—I—uh—I-just"

"You got nothing. Typical. I'm going back to my _distracting_ while you and Sam hurry the hell up so I can get some sleep."

Elle turned quickly on the heel of her red Converse sneaker before walking back over to Ben. As she sat back down, she watched Sam and Dean walk out the door when Ben turned to the picture she had started of Tommy. He acted as if the last awkward conversation they had hadn't actually played out, for which Elle was thankful for. One bad habit she had learned from her brothers was to always assume the worst as far as guys were concerned. For the most part her brothers were right—but she couldn't help but be slightly cynical of Ben. He had flat out told her that he wasn't looking to get in her pants; but there had to be something more to his Tommy reasoning.

"So, tell me something about Tommy. Something real."

"Tommy's kinda the one that holds our family together. Don't tell Haley that I told you that. She likes to think that she is; but Tommy's the glue of our family since my mom and dad. I don't know how Haley and I are even holding it together as well as we are without him."

"Seems like quite the guy."

"He is."

"It's getting late and you don't need Haley worrying about you too."

"You're probably right."

"And I'll even walk you home."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? The guy walking the girl home?"

"Think of it as me making sure you don't go off and do anything stupid."

"You sound like Tommy."

Elle walked Ben back to his house before disappearing to the motel. Sam and Dean hadn't made it back from Shaw's yet, so she found that she had the room to herself. That meant she had first dibs on the beds, leaving Sam and Dean to rock-paper-scissors-it-out for who got the other full size bed and who got the twin-sized rollaway bed. She knew that Sam was going to beat Dean; but part of her hoped that Sam got stuck with the small bed after how irritating he had been tonight. Well—part of her thought this. Another part of her just wanted everything with Sam to go back to the way things were. The way they were before he left for Stanford. Back to the days when their inside jokes drove Dean crazy, when they took the Impala out for joy rides while Dean was sleeping, when everything wasn't so damn complicated and emotional. Since she was all by herself, she let the tears fall freely. It wasn't often she got a chance to cry. She could practically hear John Winchester's berating words in her head about crying; but she needed this release. As her sobs began to subsided, her ears perked up to hear Sam and Dean talking as they walked down the hallway to the room. Elle quickly slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp only seconds before she heard them trying to get in. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as they walked in and flipped the light on. She made sure to slow her breathing down so that her brothers would buy her sleeping act.

"Looks like she's sleeping," Sam said.

"More looks like she cried herself to sleep," Dean responded.

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh I don't know—maybe the fact that there's a pile of used tissues on the table and her face is all blotchy."

"Girls get emotional over nothing—you know that."

"I told myself I was going to stay out of this; but I can't keep working with you two if you're gonna act like this."

"So you're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking a goddamn side, Sam. I just want this shit over. We're never going to find Dad if you two keep this up."

"I'm the one she verbally attacked, Dean. I'm the one who watched my girlfriend die."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. You both are so damn concerned about playing the victim. Shit happens. You both know that and have lived it for almost your entire lives. Get over yourselves and grow up. We have a job to do. That goes for you too, Elle. I know you're awake. You made a face when I said it was blotchy."

Dean threw himself onto the bigger bed as Elle opened her eyes. She looked to Sam who looked at her with a hard expression on his face. Neither said a word to each other. Sam growled something low to himself before he unfolded the roll-away bed and spread out on it. He muttered for someone to turn off the light. Elle waited for Dean to make a move toward the switch, but he didn't. It wasn't until Dean's snores began to fill the room that Sam made his request again. Elle slowly sat up and sighed before she reached for the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness. She lay back down and thought about Dean's words. He was right. She knew that. She was pretty sure that Sam knew it too. Her thoughts turned to the Collins family and what Ben had said about Tommy being the glue. She thought of how they relied on each other and loved each other—no matter what. That's what family was supposed to be like, right? While she certainly wasn't ready to surrender to Sam—the question became was she willing to do it for Dean. She sighed once more. Silence hovered over the room. She wanted to bring up something light-hearted to Sam and get the first step over, but she was scared that it would completely fall flat. Instead, she turned her pillow to the cold side before slowly falling into a deep sleep.

The next day, Elle, Sam, and Dean pulled up at the park in the Impala to find Haley, Ben, and their guide just about to head out on the hike. Elle pulled her hair into a ponytail as they stepped out of the car. She wore a holey pair of shorts, a sweatshirt, and her trademark Converse. Sam pulled a duffel bag out of the back as Elle leaned against the car and Dean flirted with Haley. Part of Elle wondered if Haley and Dean were both flirting with each other to get what they wanted—and they knew that was exactly the same thing the other was doing. Either way, Dean's flirtations seemed to be working on Haley—it was the new guy that wasn't buying it.

"Who are these guys?" the man asked gruffly.

"Could ask the same about you," Elle responded with a flip of her ponytail.

"Roy, apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley said to him. "Guys this is Roy. He's the guy I was talking about yesterday."

"You three are rangers?" Roy scoffed.

"That's right," Dean said with a nod.

"Looks like they'll take just about anybody these days."

"Just about. Although it looks like you didn't quite pass the test."

"Dean," Elle hissed elbowing him as Sam walked away toward the trail.

"We'll see just who's laughing in the end. I'll tell you now it's gonna be me. You're never gonna make it in what you're wearing."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"You're hiking in biker boots and jeans?" Haley asked.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," Dean quipped.

"He gets embarrassed by his cankles," Elle smirked. She swore she could have heard a laugh from Sam; but when she looked his direction he purposely turned his back to her.

"I don't have cankles," Dean hissed at Elle before turning toward Haley. "I don't."

"You guys think this is funny? It's dangerous country back there and you're arguing about whatever the hell you're talking about—Her brother might be hurt. Get your heads on straight," Roy argued.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be out there. We just wanna help them find their brother that's all. Same as you."

Dean walked past Roy, purposely brushing the man's shoulder with his own. He walked toward Sam who was waiting at the start of the trail. Elle looked to Ben and Haley before she shrugged her shoulders and followed after her brothers. Family. It was always complicated. She found Sam and Dean waiting for her—and the rest of them. Elle was about to ask which one of her brothers wanted to lead the way when Roy pushed past and assumed his _rightful_ place at the beginning of the group. He was followed closely behind by Dean and Haley, then Ben, Elle, and Sam brought up the rear. Dean and Roy seemed to be the only ones talking. Probably because Ben and Haley were too deep in thought about Tommy and well—Sam and Elle had nothing to say to each other—well, at least nothing nice. Roy and Dean were talking about hunting. Elle turned around and gave Sam a knowing look to which he responded with a nod of his head. Suddenly, Elle slammed into Ben who had stopped. The whole group was stopped because Roy took hold of Dean by his collar. Dean wasn't happy with the situation and he tried to fight away from Roy; but the old guy took a stick and poked it right where Dean had been about to step. The stick snapped in a bear trap. Elle's hands flew over her face as her eyes widened. Sam pushed her back with his hand, urging her to continue.

"He's fine," Sam muttered. "Foot still attached. Keep going."

She looked to Sam curiously. How had he known that her mind had immediately gone to the "what-if?" But his face had no emotion to be read on it. Next thing they knew, Haley had a hold of Dean's arm and him pushed up against a tree. Ben just continued to walk on past. Sam and Elle looked to each other before looking to Dean. With his head, Dean indicated for them to keep walking. The younger Winchesters looked to each other once more. Sam moved to keep going. He reached for Elle's arm, but she quickly withdrew her arm from his grasp with an icy glare.

"Elle-Belle, go on," Dean said.

"You call all your _rangers_ like that?" Haley snapped.

"Nah—Elle's my little sister and she was just leaving with our brother Sam."

Dean glared at her until Elle rolled her eyes and walked away. She muttered under her breath as she saw Sam waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore him and keep on walking; but being short and with his long stride he easily caught up to her. But thankfully, he didn't say word. Although, she could tell that there was something on his mind that he wanted to say to her. They continued walking for what seemed like forever. Elle managed to pull some trail mix out of her bag and snack on it as they were walking—well, until Dean stole it from her. She chased him for a few feet until she tripped over a root and fell to the ground. She swore under her breath as she slowly stood wiping away the dirt and blood away from her knees. Elle sarcastically thanked Dean and he responded by throwing her an M&M. Boys. She wasn't sure how much farther they walked, but Roy came to a stop when they reached Blackwater Ridge. It really wasn't Elle had pictured in her head—much more beautiful actually; but given that there was suspicious activity going on around here, it couldn't be all that beautiful. Sam asked for the coordinates and Roy listed them from his GPS.

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

"Isn't that—" Elle started.

"Sh! You hear that?" Dean asked.

The three Winchesters stood side by side and listened for a moment. There wasn't a single sound to be heard which was very odd for being in the middle of a forest. One would think that you would hear some sort of wildlife: a deer running, a rabbit hopping, birds chirping; but there was nothing. They looked to each other knowingly. There was definitely something off about this place. Roy mentioned that he was going to take a look around their current location. That definitely wasn't a good idea and the Winchesters knew it. Sam was the first one to try and stop him, but Roy waved his gun around and pushed between them. Ben and Haley caught up with them and Dean stated that they should all stick together. But that didn't last long when Roy found Tommy and his friends' campsite. The place was a mess. Tents were torn open and bloody. All the supplies were scattered across the ground. Roy commented that the place looked like it had seen a grizzly. Haley then began to scream Tommy's name and Elle's stomach dropped at the pain and heartbreak evident in the girl's voice.

Haley set down her backpack and began to run through the camp. Sam quickly took after her. He grabbed her firmly around her waist as she continued to scream her brother's name. Sam told her to be quiet, but she continued to shout for Tommy. Eventually he moved his hand to cover her mouth. He told her that he would remove his hand if she didn't scream to which she responded with a nod of her head. Slowly, Sam removed his hand and Haley demanded to know why she needed to be quiet. Sam explained that there might still be something out there—which was an understatement. There was something out there. Dean motioned for Sam and Elle to come a little closer. Both the siblings walked to their brother who was crouching near the ground. Dean pointed toward the campsite.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite to right about—here—" Dean started.

"And then the tracks suddenly vanish," Elle commented. "Poof."

"Which is weird if you ask me."

"Like I said last night it's got to be something corporeal," Sam said. "Maybe—"

"Well I'll tell you what it ain't—it ain't no skinwalker or black dog."

"So then what the hell is it?" Elle asked.

"Whatever it is—it can't be good," Sam groaned.

"No shit, Sherlock," Elle said before she cringed. "I didn't mean that to come out as harsh as it did. I was just—"

"Whatever, Elle," Sam said shaking his head before standing up. "Looks like Haley found something."

Dean was the first one to rush over to Haley's side. Sam and Elle slowly made their way over where Dean was crouched beside Haley. She was clutching a bloody cell phone. Elle looked to Ben—who face was pale. She deduced that the phone must have belonged to Tommy. She watched as Dean tried to comfort Haley. It actually looked sincere, which was an odd sight to see on her brother. Beyond her and Sam, Elle had never seen Dean act so compassionately. Not that she didn't think her brother was capable of it—but she knew that he knew not to get too attached in their line of work. Out of nowhere a voice began to cry for help. The group scrambled behind Roy as they ran to aid the shouter. The voice called again for help; but they couldn't find anyone in dire need of help—hell, they couldn't find anyone beyond their own party. Sam urged the group to head back to the campsite. Elle's mind seemed to spin as she tried to put the clues together. What the hell could leave tracks but suddenly vanish, move insanely fast, mimic a human voice….They arrived back at the campsite to find all the supplies except for the duffel Dean had slung over his shoulder missing.

"Shit."

"That's right," Ben responded.

"No. No. This is not good."

"What are we supposed to eat?"

"That's the least of our worries at the moment."

Elle ran over to Dean and ripped the duffel bag from him. Dean seemed somewhat surprised, but he seemed to understand when he saw Elle pull Dad's journal out of the bag. Elle flipped through the pages and groaned when she saw it all standing right before her on the pages. The First Nations style drawing—mimicking a human voice. She swore aloud as she ran her fingers through the back of her ponytail. She definitely needed to consult her brothers on this one—but she was fairly certain what they had stumbled upon.

"Dean, Sam, I need to speak with you both—in private."

Sam, Dean, and Elle walked a little ways away from the group so that they could have a little more privacy. Elle was about to explain when Sam snatched Dad's journal from her hands. Sam flipped through the journal and Elle noticed when he stopped on the same page she did.

"Looks like we're thinking the same thing," Elle whispered.

"You came to this conclusion as well?" Sam asked looking up to his sister.

"It makes sense."

"I agree."

"Care to share with the class what the hell you two think we're up against?" Dean asked.

"Wendigo," Sam and Elle said simultaneously.

Sam held the book out for Dean to see it better and Elle pointed to the drawing of the figure and underlined a few key phrases. Dean seemed to scoff at the thought. But for the first time during the mess of emotions between Sam and Elle; they were one the same page, so to speak. The way they explained things to Dean made things seem just like old times—which sort of scared all three of them.

"Come on guys, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west before."

"Since when has the crap we hunt actually followed their own god-damn rules?" Elle pointed out.

"She's right, Dean," Sam said. "Think about it—the claws—"

"The way it can mimic a human voice."

"It fits."

"Great. That's just freaking fantastic," Dean groaned as he took out his pistol. "Well this is useless."

"As is most of what we packed," Elle sighed. "But I'm sure we'll figure _something_ out."

"It's not us I'm worried about," Sam said. "We gotta get these people to safety."

"You can try, but I can guarantee that Haley and Ben aren't going anywhere without Tommy."

"They can't stay here, Elle. They could get killed."

"You misunderstood me. I agree that they should get the hell out of Dodge; but don't expect them to go willingly."

"Point taken, but we gotta try."

"Is it just me or does this feel just like old times?" Dean smirked.

"It's just you," Sam commented.

"Definitely just you," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"C'mon guys. Don't do this just because I pointed something out," Dean groaned.

"It's called a habit Dean and habits aren't always good. Take smoking for example. It can kill you."

"Well aren't you just little Miss Sunshine?"

"You two keep doing whatever the hell it is you're doing. I'm going to try and save some people," Sam said.

Elle and Dean watched as Sam marched over to where Haley, Ben, and Roy were standing. Just as she predicted, they didn't appear to be moving anywhere fast; but it was Roy where the biggest fight was coming from. He probably didn't want to be told by a group of _youngins_ what was going on. Elle looked to Dean and he nodded his head toward Sam, like he expected her to help him. Then again, she usually was the one to help out in these types of situations. It was in her personality to avoid conflict for the most part—to find a compromise—to make people see things from both perspectives. Unless it came to herself, then she was stubborn as hell. With a sigh, Elle walked to Sam's side as he seemed to be acting very defensive.

"Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's a smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we your sorry, stupid ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?" Roy laughed.

"Really? You ever hunted a wen—"

Elle pushed into Sam before he attempted to get in Roy's face. Sam gave her a disgruntled look as she placed a hand out before him, to try and hold him back; but before he could say anything, Elle began to speak to Haley and Ben, hoping to get somewhere with them.

"Sam's not crazy, he's right," Elle said. "This—_thing_—is a perfect hunter and we're its target. Ben, Haley, what would Tommy tell you to do?"

"Tommy might still be alive. We can't just stop," Ben argued.

"That's not what I asked you."

"He would tell us to stay safe—"

"Exactly."

"But if one of us were in this situation, he'd come after us. Why should we do any differently?"

"Which is why I'm not leaving here without him. Tommy might still be alive, so everybody stop this bickering because it's not going to change my mind any," Haley said in finality.

Elle looked to Sam and Dean before she shrugged her shoulders at them. She couldn't exactly find fault with their logic. If either of her brothers were in the situation—she would go after them—even despite how pissed she still was at Sam. Roy made a comment that even if they wanted to—they'd never make it out of the park before the sun went down. That left only one choice: they were spending the night. Elle felt a shiver go down her spine at the thought. Not only was a freaking wendigo a great hunter during the day; but it was also unbelievably skilled during the night as well. They were really going to have to stay together if they intended on surviving the night. She was fully intending on spending her time as close to her brothers as possible. Yes, even hunters can be a little frightened; they just usually never told a single soul about their moments of weakness.

After they had built the campfire, Dean began to draw Anasazi symbols in the dirt around their site. Sam sat against a tree away from the fire, but within the protection of Dean's symbols. Elle looked between Ben who was talking with Roy or Sam. She decided to take her chances sitting with Sam. After all, if the wendigo came calling she trusted Sam to protect her more than two people who had no idea what the hell a wendigo was. The leaves crunched beneath Elle as she sat beside Sam. He seemed to scoot away from her without even looking at her.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, no taking his eyes off Dad's journal.

"Thought you could use the company," Elle said with a shrug.

"You know that lying to my face just makes me even more pissed off at you."

"Fine, that's my minor reason. I just figured that I'd be safer around the wendigo with you by my side than those two."

"Unless I let it take you."

"This is true, but then not only would you feel slightly guilty afterwards, but you'd have to put off with an extremely pissed off Dean which I'm pretty sure is worse than a creepy wendigo."

"I'd manage."

"And you do realize that even hypothetically saying you'd let me die makes me even more pissed off at you."

"I can't leave you two alone for a second can I?" Dean groaned as he walked toward them. "Either of you want to tell me what else is going on now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elle retorted as she stood up.

"You're not going anywhere until we get this settled," Dean said grabbing hold of Elle's arm.

"I'm not a child."

"Well you certainly fooled me. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one—not you two, remember? Now I'm no Dr. Phil, but I don't think it's each other that you're really mad at. I mean—at least not to the extent that you two are taking it out on each other."

Elle refused to meet Dean's glance. She was surprised when it was Sam who actually responded.

"You're wrong. I'm pissed at Elle; but what do you want me to say, that I'm pissed at Dad? Well, it's no big surprise Dean. It's been that way for years, man. He's not here. What kind of person just sends his kids out like this? Why then hell are we still even here?"

"Actually, I'd like the answer to that one as well. You've never been the attachment kind of person. That's usually mine and Sam's job," Elle added.

Dean bent down and snatched John Winchester's journal from Sam's hands. He held it up in front Sam and Elle before he began speaking in harsh tones.

"This is why. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things—"

"The family business?" Elle scoffed.

"The family business."

"You really have gone soft."

"It's not soft. It's our job. It's what we're supposed to do, I just know it. I can feel it."

"I don't have the same feelings."

"It makes sense."

"It makes no sense," Sam said shaking his head. "Why wouldn't dad just—call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"Probably because it's Dad," Elle said rolling her eyes. "When does the inconsiderate ass ever give a damn."

"I don't care what you two think, but the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it," Dean said with finality.

"Dean—I'm not going off on this crusade of yours. I just gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jess's killer. It's the only thing I can think about right now," Sam hissed.

"Why? So you can leave again?" Elle muttered.

"Honestly, I haven't thought much beyond finding Jess's killer, Elle. I'm not going to apologize for wanting to see her death avenged. I thought you of all people—with your empathy crap—might understand that."

"I do! I get it! But I don't want to see you let this consume you. I just got you back and I-god-damnit-I just want to have my brother back for a while."

"And right now I don't know whether to believe you're being sincere or saying it because you think it's what I want to hear."

"There you go twisting what I said into something negative and completely off the point. You asshole."

"Whoa—easy now. Sam, we'll find what you're looking for, I promise; but you gotta listen to me. You need to prepare yourself. Elle's right about all this anger and it ain't gonna do nobody any good because I'm gonna be straight with you—this search your take a while. You can't let that anger keep burning over the long haul—it's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. And Elle—Sam's probably going to be with us a while, so stop acting like you're about to lose him at any second. Because you're not," Dean stated.

"How do you do it, man?" Sam questioned.

Dean pointed over to Haley and Ben who were playing tic tac toe in the dirt. He told his younger siblings that since their family was so screwed up, helping others keep a so-called normal family made things a little more bearable. Elle could understand that—but it didn't make her yearning for a normal family any less. But it was something she was never going to have. She was never going to do the things normal people did—be in relationships, get married, have kids—she couldn't pull someone else into this life. Not if she could help it. That only left her with what little family she had left.

"I'll you what helps with it all though—killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can," Dean said with a grin.

Suddenly, the sound of twigs snapping begins to fill the void in the air. A voice, presumably the wendigo begins to call for help again. Dean stood up and readied his gun. Elle shot Dean a look of confusion before he slowly lowered his gun. His weapon was useless against the wendigo. Sam then pointed his flashlight around the area.

"He's trying to draw us out. Let's just stay cool, stay put," Dean said calmly.

"Inside your magic circle?" Roy scoffed.

"I'd say it's a hell of a lot safer than whatever's outside of it," Elle retorted.

"Ya'll are crazy."

The wendigo began to growl.

"Wanna try that one again?" Elle said snidely.

"Okay—that's no grizzly."

"You catch on fast," Sam said sarcastically.

The wendigo rushed past them again, causing Haley to shriek. The girl clung to her brother Ben. Elle wasn't sure whether it was for comfort or to keep him safe. Unconsciously, Elle moved closer toward Dean when Roy began to start shooting off into the dark woods. Idiot. He wasn't actually going to kill the thing—just piss it off even more. Roy shot his gun again, but this time there was no sound of the bullet ricocheting. The older man assumed that he actually hit the thing and took off to find what he shot. Sam, Dean, and Elle shouted for him not to leave the protected area, but the old man didn't listen. He practically took off in a sprint but Dean made sure to stop Haley and Ben from going after him. He told Elle to stay with them, while he and Sam ran after Roy to try and save the old man's ass. Elle tried to put herself between the barrier and Ben and Haley as Roy shouted that he found it. Sam and Dean were just about to where Roy was standing when there was the sudden sound of twigs snapping before something that wasn't a twig snapped. Elle hoped that it wasn't Roy—but she had a feeling that it was. Her suspicions were confirmed when Sam and Dean came back inside the protection with a somewhat somber expression on their faces.

"Where's Roy?" Ben asked.

"Gone," was all Dean managed.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"I don't know how much more plainly I can spell it out for you kid. The thing got him. He's gone."

Elle sighed as Ben came up to her with a questioning look. He didn't say anything, just looked at her as if he had been betrayed. She felt quite uncomfortable with the situation and tried to relieve any tension.

"I'm sorry about Roy," Elle said.

"Haley told me you guys aren't rangers," Ben said.

"We're looking for someone too," Elle explained. "My dad."

"So how is it that you guys know about this stuff?" Ben asked.

"This has been my whole life," Elle responded. "And my dad."

"So what, you go around lying to people for a living?"

"Ben, it's not like that. Okay—well—it sort of is—"

Ben walked away from her toward his sister.

"Ben, c'mon."

Ben seemed to ignore her for the rest of the night. Elle, Sam, and Dean took shifts staying awake while everyone else managed to get a bit of sleep. If they were going to get this thing, they needed to do it when the wendigo didn't have a nighttime advantage. Elle took first watch and Dean relieved her. She slept straight through until morning. She was awoken by the sounds of talking coming from Dean and Haley. With atrocious bedhead, Elle walked over to the conversation when Sam announced that they had to kill the son of a bitch. Dean was of course up for it. Ben and Haley looked to each other hesitantly.

"Maybe we should give them a bit more information before they sign their lives away," Elle said.

Sam agreed and showed them the pages on wendigos in Dad's journal.

"Wendigo is a Cree word. It means evil that devours," Sam said.

"They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man—" Dean started.

"Or woman," Elle added.

"Rarely. Usually an Indian, or old times frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"You're telling me that thing was once a human being?" Haley questioned. "How does a man turn into one of those things?"

"It's not pretty," Sam said.

"Always the same thought. During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving and cut off from supplies or help. A man gets desperate. Desperate enough to do anything to survive," Dean continued.

"By that he means they become a cannibal to survive. They eat other members of his tribe or camp," Elle added.

"That's disgusting," Haley gagged.

"Like the Donner Party?" Ben asked before Dean gave a slightly confused look.

"Yes—for those of us who actually paid attention in history class," Elle retorted.

"Anyway—cultures all over the world belive that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities: speed, strength, immortality—" Sam started.

"If you eat enough of it—over the years—you become a thing that is less than human. Something that's always hungry for human flesh."

"So if all that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley questioned.

"You're not gonna like it," Dean said.

"Tell me."

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when its awake it keeps its victim alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If our brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And how exactly to we go about stopping it?"

"Guns are useless," Sam said.

"So are knives," Elle added.

"Which leaves us with what?" Haley asked.

"We gotta torch the sucker," Dean said as he held up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth.

Sam and Dean took turns leading them through the woods. They followed trees with claw marks and blood—but it almost seemed easy. Too easy. These things were supposed to be smart. Was it really leading them right to its lair? Maybe it planned on ambushing them once they were trapped in the dark. Sam must have thought the same thing, because he stopped and waited for Elle and Dean to catch up.

"What's up?" Dean asked.

Sam pointed out what Elle had already observed. She wasn't the only one with a gut feeling about the situation. The trees began to rustle after some growling. Elle took a step closer to her brothers. She tried to put on a brave face with all this shit—but honestly it scared the hell out of her. But she needed a brave face more than ever, especially with Haley and Ben around. Blood began to drip onto Haley's shirt, she looked up and moved out of the way quickly as Roy's corpse came free-falling onto the ground. The growling continued.

"Damnit, it's a trap," Elle hissed.

"Okay, run, run, run, go, go, go!" Dean shouted.

Dean and Haley took up the lead as they began to sprint through the woods. Ben tripped over something and grabbed Elle to break his fall. The youngest Winchester and the youngest Collins scrambled to get off the ground. Sam stopped for a moment and looked both directions before he raced back to help Elle back to her feet and then Ben. The group had been divided into two. Haley's screams filled the air; but there was no one in front of them. The wendigo had taken Haley and Dean, leaving only the Molotov cocktail Dean had made; but its bottle was broken rendering it useless. Sam and Elle began to shout Dean's name and Ben shouted for Haley; but it was no use. Elle's face paled. She looked about to pass out. She tightly closed her eyes and leaned against a tree. She couldn't break down. Not here. Not now. She felt two familiar arms wrap around her. She leaned into her brother's embrace, forgetting whatever crap was going on between them. Her body began to shake, but she refused to release a sob or a single tear.

"We'll find him."

"I can't lose him. We can't lose him."

"Dean's not going down without a fight, you know that."

"But what if—"

"Now's not the time for those. Right now we need to go drag his sorry ass back to the light of day so I can kick it for being so damn reckless."

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry for everything."

"Guys, I hate to interrupt your moment, but I think I found something," Ben said.

Sam patted Elle on the back before he released her and walked toward Ben. Ben examined a peanut M&M in his hand before pointing through the trees. Ben walked a few more steps before picking up another one.

"They went this way," Ben said continuing to follow the M&M trail.

"It's better than breadcrumbs," Sam laughed. "But I thought he ate all the M&M's in his bag last night."

"You know, if it wasn't helping save his life, I'd probably be pissed that he picked all the M&M's out of my trail mix," Elle said holding up her trail mix that was M&M free before she wiped at her misty eyes.

"Dean," Sam chuckled.

Sam smiled up at his sister. Elle put the trail mix back into her bag before she followed Sam and Ben along the trail. She wasn't sure how long they walked, but they stopped at an entrance to a mine. There was a sign that read: Warning! Danger! Do Not Enter Extremely Toxic Material. Sam looked to Ben and Elle before he shrugged. He walked inside, followed by Elle and then Ben. They completely ignored the sign that said KEEP OUT. Sam pulled out his flashlight as Elle grabbed one from her pack. They walked a few feet when growling began to echo through the mine. Sam and Elle looked to each other before they quickly shut off their flashlights. Sam slid past Elle and pinned Ben against the wall as the wendigo came right for them. Sam's hand covered Ben's mouth so that his scream wouldn't escape his lips. Elle clutched Sam's other arm and buried her face against her brother. Thankfully the wendigo went down a different tunnel at the crossing. Elle breathed a sigh of relief before Sam looked down at her.

"I forgot how tight of a grip you have," Sam said.

"Right. Oops!" Elle said removing her grasp of her brother's arm.

Elle, Sam, and Ben continued walking further into the mine. The floorboards creaked underneath their weight until they finally gave in, causing Ben, Elle, and Sam to fall through the floor. Elle's high-pitched scream reverberated through the mine. Hopefully the wendigo didn't hear her. She groaned as she landed in a pile of bones. Disgusting. All the thing's years' worth of hunting was down here. Ben instantly shot up and looked about ready to vomit at the sight of all the skulls and bones on the ground. Sam assured him that it was going to be okay. Elle rubbed the back of her neck, but she froze at the sight above her.

"Guys, look," Elle said pointing up.

The boys looked up to see what Elle had seen: Dean and Haley hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Sam quickly helped Elle to her feet before the Winchesters ran to Dean while Ben ran to Haley. Sam gently smacked Dean's face while Elle shook him by his arms. Dean's eyes flashed open before he winced in pain. Both Sam and Elle asked him if he was okay.

"Haley," Dean muttered.

"She's right here," Sam answered pointing toward Ben who was still trying to wake Haley up.

"Tommy," Haley gasped when she was finally awake. "Where's Tommy?"

"Let me get you down first, Haley," Ben said.

"We need to find him," Haley said struggling to free herself.

"I—I'll go find him," Elle said.

Elle quickly scanned the room and found the young man who looked like the one in her drawing. She had only seen pictures and videos of him, they hardly did him justice. If one got beyond the beaten and scratched face, Tommy was very attractive. Elle gently pressed her hand against Tommy's cheek causing his head to jerk up.

"Hey—it's okay—you're safe. My name's Elle. I'm with your brother and sister. We're here to save you. We'll get you out—I promise."

Tommy's eyes stopped looking frantically around for a moment and focused on her. He seemed rather calm despite being tied up. His gaze was rather intense that it caused Elle to blush. Elle called for Sam to come over and cut him down. She reached for his face one last time and as her fingertips barely brushed against him, she felt herself being pushed aside by Haley as Sam cut him down. As Haley whispered words of comfort to her brother, Dean pulled Elle aside toward a corner where the stolen supplies were piled.

"We need something to light this bitch up," Dean muttered.

Elle began to dig through the supplies. She came across a box of matches, it was a weak option; but then her hand stumbled across a gun—a flare gun. She tossed it toward Dean who grinned before he got Sam's attention.

"Check it out. Look what Elle-Belle found," Dean said.

"Flare guns? Nice. Those'll work," Sam responded.

"Now let's get the hell out of Dodge," Elle said.

Tommy was leaning heavily against his siblings, but he managed a smile at Elle's response. Sam, and Dean were packing heat—well, flare guns actually. They led the way down the tunnel as Haley and Ben who were supporting Tommy followed behind them. Growling once again echoed through the air. Elle swore under her breath.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean commented.

"A little early," Elle muttered.

"Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere."

Elle shook her head at her brother.

"Now what? We're never going to outrun that thing," Haley added.

Dean looked around to Elle and Sam. He then began to look around the tunnel, examining it. Elle knew what he was doing. He was looking for an escape route so that he could distract the wendigo.

"You two thinking what I'm thinking?" Dean asked.

"Yeah—I think so," Sam said.

"Don't do anything stupid. You owe me some freaking M&M's," Elle said to Dean.

"Love you too, little sister," Dean chuckled. "Now you guys stay with Sam and Elle. They're gonna get you out of here."

"What's are you gonna do?" Haley asked.

Dean didn't say a word about what his plan was, instead he winked at Haley before he walked away from them. Crazy ran in the family, that was for sure. Dean then began yelling at the wendigo, telling him that it was chow time. Elle couldn't help but shake her head at her brother's distractions. He was confident; but sometimes Elle wondered if he was too confident and that it would eventually catch-up with him. But today, was not the time for such thoughts. Dean was going to be okay. He had to be. Or at least that's what she told herself in order help Sam lead the Collins siblings safely out of the abandoned mine. They tried to get out quickly when the growling grew closer to them rather than farther away toward Dean. Damnit. These things were smart and it probably knew that they were trying to outwit it. The group froze for a moment behind Sam who was pointing the flare gun at the freaky bastard. Sam looked back at Elle and the Collins siblings and then back to his sister.

"Elle, get them out of here," Sam said.

"No, not without you," Elle argued.

"Just go! Make sure they're safe."

Elle's eyes met Tommy's once more. He looked so helpless. She had promised him that she was going to save him. She had to keep her word. She had promised him that much. Reluctantly, Elle led Haley, Ben, and Tommy down the path as Sam acted as a barrier between them and the wendigo. He shot his flare gun at the wendigo who was practically in his face; but he missed. Sam then took off in a sprint after Elle and the Collins siblings. Elle continued to lead them until she lead them to a dead-end. She screamed in frustration. Now what were they supposed to do? They couldn't go anywhere and the wendigo was right behind them. Sam yelled for all of them to get behind him. Elle found herself squished between the wall and Tommy, his breathing rather uneven. She wanted to reach up and comfort him; but that would probably be a little awkward—afterall, she didn't even know the guy. The wendigo slowed down it's pace, taking its time and probably savoring the hunt. Next thing she knew, Dean shouted at the thing, distracting it before he shot the flare gun and the thing went up in flames. The small group breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean said with a grin.

"Next time, don't make it such a close call," Elle muttered.

The group slowly made their way back to the Ranger's station. An ambulance was called for Tommy. Elle sat with him as Ben and Haley had to go over their story first with the rangers. She had her sketchbook out and was flipping through the pages. He looked about ready to fall asleep, but Elle gently tapped his cheeks. His eyes focused directly on her.

"You need to stay awake. You could have a concussion or something," Elle said.

"After all that and you're worried about a concussion?" Tommy asked.

"Fine, if you want to fall asleep and never wake up, leaving your brother and sister alone for good this time; be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Tommy smiled at her, making Elle feel slightly uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For finding me. For helping Haley and Ben. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"You're giving me a little too much credit, buddy."

"No. I'm never going to forget what you did."

"I—I think I hear the ambulance." Elle said as she stood to her feet.

Escaping the awkwardness, Elle walked outside to the Impala. She sat on the hood by herself until Sam joined her. Sam folded his hands and looked up to the sky.

"Now what?" Elle asked.

"We find Dad," Sam responded.

"Not that. What about us?"

"I don't know. What do you want to happen?"

"I could ask you the same thing?"

"I think if this is going to work—we need to be honest with each other. No more bottling it all up."

"You're ripe."

"What?"

"You said we should be honest with each other and you smell—disgusting."

Sam chuckled before he wrapped his arm around his sister. She was engulfed by his sweaty smell that made her want to gag; but even she couldn't help but laugh. Dean approached them with a grin on his face.

"Maybe I should go missing more often," Dean suggested.

"No!" Sam and Elle shouted simultaneously.

"So are you two back to normal now?" Dean asked.

"Dean, we can't go back to normal. Normal doesn't exist anymore," Elle stated.

"It's gonna be a long road to get wherever the hell we're going," Sam added. "It's not as simple as when we were kids. But I'm willing to give it another try."

"Me too."

Dean nodded his head before he took a seat on the Impala's hood in between his siblings.

"I hate camping," Dean said.

"Me too," Sam laughed.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Elle suggested.

"You guys know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know. But in the meantime—I'm driving," Sam said.

Dean smirked before he tossed the keys to Sam. Elle tried to intercept them; but there was no possible way she could have reached them.

"What? No fair. Baby likes me better," Elle moaned.

"You don't even like Baby—or driving," Dean commented. "Oh—shotgun!"

"Not if I beat you to it."

"I don't think so."

"You guys better hurry or I'm leaving without you," Sam said.

Sam was leaning on the driver's side of the car as Elle and Dean scrambled to get to the front seat. Dean playfully shoved Elle, causing her to biff it on the gravel. He beat Elle to the door and did a little victory dance as Elle tried to kick him in the ass. She then was relegated to the backseat once more; but things actually looked like they might be okay. Okay—being relative, that is. One missing father. One brother with a mending relationship. One brother with whom she probably had an over-attachment. The three Winchesters got in the car and shut their doors almost in sync. Then they headed out on the open road—heading wherever was going to lead them to their dad next.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out. That was never my intent. Life just gets in the way sometimes and gets crazy busy. I also apologize that this chapter isn't anywhere near as good as the others—so, I'm sorry for a crappy chapter! Haha. I hope that you'll still manage to stick it out with me—at least for a while yet. Thanks so much to those of you who have favorited/followed/reviewed/hell—even read my story. It really means a lot to me!

**Skipping Pumpkin:** Haha—it's been so long that I don't really even remember my warning! But here's another chapter!

**SilverShadowWolf46:** So..it's been a while since you reviewed, but thanks for doing that! I'm glad that you liked the first two chapters. I hope this one wasn't a complete disappointment. An Elle and John reunion will be happening—eventually. Let's see if she works up the "balls" to do it.

**Marloweee1856:** I'm sorry for taking so long to respond to your review. You've probably even forgotten that you read this! I'm glad that you enjoyed Elle the last time you read. I hope she was tolerable this chapter. Yes—things are slowly on the mend for Sam and Elle—but how long can that last really?

**Guest (1):** Thanks so much for enjoying this the last time you read. I'm sorry about not being better about updating. Hope that this chapter wasn't completely terrible.

**Newageofmusic101: **Sorry it took so long to respond! I'm a terrible person for making you guys wait so long. I'm glad that you're enjoyed the big brother/little sister dynamic. I've always seen Dean as gruff but willing to do whatever for Sam (and now Elle)

**Flower power.u know u lik it:** Took me a second glance to make sure I got your name right. Thank you for the wonderful compliments the last time you reviewed—a month and a half ago! Yikes! Elle's backstory won't be for a little bit—but it is coming—I promise. It just has to fit in at the right time. Sorry it took so long to respond and update!

**xRachelxBrowniex:** Thanks so much for responding to the two chapters I posted. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond to your reviews! I hope that this chapter was at least satisfactory!

**Mayrem:** I'm glad you stumbled across my story—although, I do feel like a terrible author for not updating sooner. I really wanted to make my sisfic different—following canon, yet giving Elle something of her own. Thank you so much for reviewing! Sorry for taking so long to update and respond!

**TemperanceWincheterPotter:** Lemme guess: Bones, Supernatural, Harry Potter? If it is—good stuff. Thanks so much for responding to both chapters! Sorry this one took so long to get out. Ahh—Castiel—we shall have to wait and see what happens. Haha.

**AndItWasAwesome: **To be honest—your review kinda kicked me in the butt to finish this chapter up. I was stuck for the longest time because I'm a stupid perfectionist! But thanks for the compliments about my writing. I know this chapter didn't live up to your high expectations—haha—but I hope that it was somewhat enjoyable.


	4. Dead in the Water

_**Us Against the World**_

By January Lily

* * *

_And bring back the water, let your ships roll in, in my heart, she left a hole_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Dead in the Water**

Elle sat at the counter in a near empty diner with Dean. She picked the last piece of bacon off her plate as she looked to her older brother who was intently searching a newspaper. He was searching the obituary section—something that she knew Dad had taught him to do. Dad used to look through the obituaries to find any suspicious deaths. Sometimes they ended up being a lead—sometimes they didn't. Either way, he would go chasing them across the country, often dragging his children along behind him. Elle reached across to sneak the newspaper from Dean but he swatted at her hand which caused her to begin to retaliate and smack him back. A throat cleared from behind them causing both Elle and Dean to look like deer in the headlights as the waitress named Wendy stared at them with her hands on her hips and a look that wasn't amused.

"Can I get ya'll anything else?"

A grin slowly spread over Dean's face as he checked out the waitress. Elle rolled her eyes. As far as waitresses went, the woman was very attractive; but leave it to Dean to flirt with anything with breasts. Well—anyone except her, of course. That would just be disturbing. Thankfully, before Dean could lay any sweet-talking on the woman, Sam showed up pushing Elle over on the bench. The waitress adjusted her color as her face began to flush. Clearly the woman found herself attracted to the Winchester brothers. Elle groaned. Why couldn't she have been born with uglier brothers? It wasn't fair that her brothers were just as _pretty_ as she was—or that they were tall and intimidating to any guy that came within a one mile radius of their sister.

"You were saying?" Elle asked.

"I—uh—I just wanted to see if you needed anything else?" Wendy stammered.

"We'll just take the check, please," Sam said—clearly oblivious to the situation.

Dean furrowed his brow as Wendy nodded her head and walked away.

"What the hell was that for man?" Dean hissed at Sam.

"Oh come on—you didn't seriously think—"Sam started.

"I have needs you know."

"Oh God, I didn't need to know that," Elle groaned as put her hands over her ears. "Can't you wait to discuss your _needs_ until I'm not within earshot?"

"Fine, we'll talk about me having some _fun_ once in a while," Dean said as he examined Wendy's backside once more—especially her short shorts. "And that's _fun_."

"How many more words can you ruin in my vocabulary?"

"I wouldn't challenge him if I were you," Sam chuckled.

"I didn't."

"You're on Elle," Dean said with a wink.

"No! Please don't! Deeeeaaaannnn." Dean started to chuckle. "Oh God no-"

"Even if the big guy existed, I don't think he could help you now."

Elle muttered something under her breath as Sam reached across the table for the paper that Dean had been reading. Dean told Sam to check out the case he had circled. Elle leaned in closer toward Sam so that she could read the paper with him. The obituary Dean circled was for an eighteen year old girl in Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Apparently this girl walked into the lake, but she never walked out. So far nothing too odd. People drown all the time. But it got a little more interesting than that. The authorities had dragged the water and nobody had shown up. Not only that but this Sophie Carlton was the third drowning in Lake Manitoc this year—and none of the other bodies were found either. While Elle wouldn't call it the most solid lead they'd ever investigated—there was something a little weird about it and even a _little_ weird was enough to check-out in this line of business.

"Did you read the part about them having a funeral?" Dean asked.

"He's annoying when he actually reads," Elle muttered.

"That's not the only thing that annoys you." Dean winked at his sister which caused Elle to roll her eyes.

"You're right—that would just be you in general."

"What's so important about the funeral?" Sam interrupted.

"Well—it's weird. They buried an empty coffin—for closure or something," Dean answered.

"Closure? What closure? People don't disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them," Sam responded.

"That wasn't loaded at all," Elle muttered before Sam elbowed her.

"That isn't all that's _loaded_," Dean said toward Elle before turning toward Sam. "And you—got something you want to say to me rather than pussy-footing around it?"

"Fine. The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day," Sam said stiffly.

"And? What are we supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know. Something—anything."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You've had it since I picked you up in the first place. Now I was giving you time to deal with Jess and all—but damnit Sam, I'm sick of this shit with you."

"My shit? What about all the shit I have to go through with you?"

"Now this is just like old times—you two fighting," Elle commented. "I knew our moment of peace wasn't going to last long."

"Shut up, Elle," Sam and Dean said simultaneously while staring each other down.

"_Sorry_," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"Don't you think that I wanna find Dad as much as you do?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah man—I know you do, it's just—"Sam started.

"You're gonna start that one with me? I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies and frat parties—"

"You weren't the only one," Elle retorted. "I was there too in case you've forgotten."

"Elle, I'd shut up unless you want to get dragged back into this."

"Touchy, touchy."

"Sam, Elle—I made you both the same damn promise. I said that we're going to find Dad and we will. But until then, we're gonna kill every bad thing between here and there. Got it?"

"Whatever man," Sam scoffed

"I wasn't even questioning that," Elle muttered before giving Dean an eye roll.

She blew a stray tendril of hair out of her face as Dean got distracted by the waitress with the short shorts. Sam looked once more to the newspaper before he asked Dean how far away Lake Manitoc was; but the oldest Winchester sibling didn't respond. Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face to which Dean responded by slapping Sam's hands out of his face.

"I hate it when you both do that," Dean mumbled. "It's so damn annoying—just like the two of you."

"Don't lump me in with him," Elle started. "I'm not Sam annoying."

"You're right—you deserve your own category of annoying: bitchy annoying."

Sam tried to choke back a laugh. Elle looked to Sam incredulously. It was amazing how he could go from behind pissed at Dean one minute to laughing at his terrible jokes the next—then again, that was sort of the Winchester way of life. You'd be pissed at one sibling until the other did something more to piss you off; but at the end of the day—you were still family—however annoying one might be.

"I hate you both," Elle said before folding her arms across her chest defensively.

Sam ruffled his little sister's hair. Wendy came back with the check and Dean paid for their meals before they left the small diner and headed for the Impala. Elle took her usual seat in the back of the car. She was thankful that she had managed to sneak a pillow to keep in the car with her out of the motel room this morning. If someone missed the pillow they could just charge it to whatever fraudulent account Sam had charged the room to. As Dean started the car, Elle leaned her head on the pillow before Dean turned toward her with a grin.

"Lake Manitoc, here we _come_."

"You're a disgusting pervert. You know that?" Elle retorted as she buried her face in the pillow.

"So you've said on multiple occasions little sister. Just remember that you're the one that started this."

"No, I believe that would be Sam."

"Leave me out of this," Sam said with a smile.

"You're the one who—"

Elle didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence because Dean turned the volume of his music almost all the way up. Both Sam and Elle reached to cover their ears as Dean jammed to the music while putting the car into gear and taking off. Dean continued to make every day words sound perverted the entire trip to Lake Manitoc. Elle was secretly plotting Dean's demise by the time they pulled into Lake Manitoc—obviously; she would never go through with it; but picturing multiple ways for Dean to die every time after he opened his mouth helped keep her somewhat sane. As they passed the sign into the small Wisconsin town, Elle couldn't help but grin as she rested her chin on the front seat between Sam and Dean. She had never really had a hometown. She had never officially resided in Lawrence, Kansas like Sam and Dean. She had never had an established home for an amount of time in her life; but there was something about the wilderness and lakes of Wisconsin that she was drawn to.

But she knew that she was the only Winchester to have such an attraction to the state. In all honesty—John Winchester hated the state—well, second behind Kansas of course. Elle didn't know why her father hated the place; but Dean had told her that it had something to do with something that happened around the time she was born—or however she came into existence. That part of her life was still very much a mystery to her. Often times, when they were trying to blend in with society, Elle had to lie about her age. Her father had gotten very upset with her when she was in first grade because she told the teacher that her birthday was after her mom died. Obviously, the teacher knew biologically that couldn't be right—but Elle still insisted that her mom died before she was born. After that, John would always say that Elle was Sam's twin to everyone who didn't already know better—of course that was after he had yelled at Elle for talking about personal matters with someone who didn't need to know their business.

Sam snapped his fingers in Elle's face. She quickly shook her head before focusing her eyes on him as he laughed at her. Elle playfully whacked Sam's arm. Things had actually been pretty decent between them since they left Colorado. Granted, they were both Winchesters and incredibly stubborn—but other than that, they hadn't had any huge blowout fights. Just little bickering—which was completely normal between any of the Winchester siblings. Dean turned down a dirt road that led them to the rustic cabin. Sam tossed around some fake ID badges before they got out of the Impala and headed toward the door.

"Living in a cabin by a lake in the middle of the woods, miles from civilization is like asking for your life to be a horror movie," Elle commented.

"I'm sure that's not the only kind of movie that happens out here," Dean said with a wink. "If you know what I mean."

"Oh come on, you were doing so well—what was it, like five hours?"

"More like four and a half," Sam added.

"I rounded. Five hours sounded better."

"Well, it looks like you have to start counting all over," Dean said with a smirk.

"Ass," Elle muttered

Elle shook her head as Dean knocked on the front door of the cabin. A man opened the door. This guy was Will Carlton and he looked like couldn't have been much older than she was; but the look in his eyes looked about ten years too old for his age. Traumatic experiences did that to a person. It wasn't fair; but it was life and to be honest—life just sucked sometimes. Will Carlton looked between the three of them, but he didn't really seem to focus on them. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Dean cleared his throat before he continued.

"You Will Carlton?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, that's right," the man responded.

"I'm agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher. We're with the US Wildlife Service.

If Elle could have rolled her eyes without being noticed—she would have. Really Dean? Really? Star Wars actors' names? Elle just hoped the guy wasn't a big Star Wars fan as she quickly held her badge up; he did seem like the type. Thankfully, the guy was a little distracted and he decided to walk them down to the lake where his father sat. When Will's back was to them, Elle smacked Dean in the arm. He flashed Elle an annoyed look; but he didn't say a single word as they walked down to the dock where Bill Carlton, sat on a bench, seemingly drowning himself in his thoughts. Elle took her little notebook and digital camera out of the bag before she turned to Will, not Bill.

"If you wouldn't mind going over your story once more, please. We've read the report but we just wanna make sure that you didn't accidentally leave out any details," Elle said kindly.

"Of course, Agent Fisher," Will said with a nod. "She was about a hundred or so yards out." He then pointed out toward the lake with his index finger. "And that right there is where she got dragged down."

"Are you sure she didn't just drown?" Dean asked.

"I'm sure, she was a varsity swimmer."

"Actually, statistics show good swimmers are more likely to drown than non-swimmers. They get over-confident and think—"Elle started before she realized her terrible statistic and Sam's annoying glance. "I'm shutting up now."

"She practically grew up in that lake. Had been swimming in it since we were little. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

"Yeah—you're probably right. My mistake."

"So there were no signs of splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam asked, trying to cover for his sister's momentary lapse in judgment. Usually she was the one to easily read people's emotions; but she missed that one. Obviously.

"No, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Will groaned.

"I apologize. Like Agent Fisher said, we're just making sure you didn't forget anything in your report," Sam said glaring over at Elle and all she could do was shrug her shoulders in response. "Make sure you're writing this down."

"I am," Elle muttered.

"Now, did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breached the surface?" Sam asked.

"No," Will sighed. "Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked.

"No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do."

Will Carlton nodded in response, seemingly accepting that answer. Dean motioned with his head to walk back toward the car. Dean began to walk as Elle snapped a few photographs of the lake, careful not to look at Will Carlton and make things even more awkward. Sam, however, continued the conversation with Will who had both take a few steps behind Dean.

"What about your father?" Sam asked.

"What about him?" Will responded.

"Can we talk to him?"

"Hey look, if you don't mind. I mean—he didn't even see anything and he's kinda been through a lot."

"We understand."

"If you think of anything else, be sure to let us know," Elle commented.

Will Carlton nodded his head before he walked over to the bench where his father sat. Elle and Sam walked to where Dean was waiting for them before the three Winchesters returned to the Impala. Dean drove them back into the small town before parking the car outside of the Police Station. The three of them decided to split up for a bit. Sam and Dean were going to head into the police station to talk to an officer to get more information while Elle was going to find out about the local legends and lore. She knew that old people would probably be her best bet, but she didn't see a nursing home in sight so she went to the next best place—the local diner. She actually wasn't upset to be getting rid of Sam and Dean for a while. Sometimes, a person just needed some time away—no matter how much they loved the person. It was probably the introvert in her that wanted some time to recharge. The bell rung on the door as she walked into the small diner causing Elle to grin as several sets of eyes looked toward her. Elle chose to go sit beside an older man, wearing a Green Bay Packers t-shirt, who was sitting at the counter drinking his coffee. She knew exactly how to get him talking.

"How 'bout them Packers, eh?" Elle said—sounding more Minnesotan than she wanted to sound.

"Goin' all the way this year," the old man said, causing Elle to chuckle. She was pretty sure that's what everyone said about their favorite football team.

"You thinkin' Favre will retire after this season?"

"He's still got some years left in him."

"I'm sure he has got some stories to tell from his years playing."

"He's not the only one with stories, you know."

Hook. Line. Sinker. She had him and he didn't even know it. Of course, Elle really should have known better than to think that this was going to be _that_ easy. No, the old man was a quite long-winded individual; but his prattling had nothing to with the local legends or lore of Lake Manitoc. Of course she did find out about the man's twelve children, thirty-two grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren. At first it was rather interesting hearing the main go to such great detail about his family—something that Elle could hardly imagine. If Mom had actually lived, would they have had a big family? Hell, would she have even been part of the picture? She even could feel the jealousy beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach as the man showed pictures of his family. Thanksgiving with his family looked like quite the affair. Apparently, last year was a small year—with _only_ forty-two. The bell on the front door rang and Elle turned to see Sam waving her toward him. Either she had spent an incredibly long amount of time talking with the man or Sam and Dean had been quite efficient in the police station. She leaned toward the former option. Elle generously took care of the man's tab before getting her hot chocolate to go. She walked outside to find Sam and Dean standing with a rather attractive woman outside a motel—although the woman actually didn't seem to be enjoying Dean's company. Elle couldn't help but chuckle as she took a sip of her hot chocolate—finally it looked like had Dean met a challenge in a woman. Elle drew nearer as the woman walked away, leaving Sam shaking his head at Dean. Dean threatened Sam to not say a word—but Sam just laughed.

"Do I even want to know?" Elle asked.

"Elle-Belle, did you know that Dean likes kids?" Sam asked with a grin.

"Since when? He's hated kids especially since the trauma you and I put him through."

"That is not true. I love kids," Dean said. "You two were just annoying exceptions."

"Really? Name three children that you even know," Sam scoffed.

Dean stood there thinking, but obviously coming up empty. Sam waved his hand at Dean before walking in to the motel. Dean scratched his head before scowling in Sam's direction.

"I'm thinking!" Dean called.

"You could've lied and named kids from some TV show or something," Elle said shaking her head.

"Good idea."

"He's not going to buy it now."

But it was too late. Dean took off behind Sam, leaving Elle standing on the sidewalk outside the motel. She swore she heard Dean make mention of liking a _Stewie_ to Sam; but Sam must have heard their conversation because he easily guessed that Dean was listing his favorite character from Family Guy. She slowly walked into the entrance of the motel, just in time to watch Sam walk up to the front desk to ask for a room. After making sure to get their usual type of room, the three Winchesters headed back to the Impala to grab their bags before they found their room. Dean opened the door before all three of them childishly ran into the room, pushing and shoving, trying not to be left with the rollaway bed. Standing at only five foot two, Sam and Dean had a clear advantage against Elle and they weren't afraid to use their larger strides against her. By the time she was even a few feet into the room, both Sam and Dean had claimed the full sized beds. Elle stood there with her hands on her hips.

"You do realize that the term _urban sprawling_ was invented because of how I sleep, right?" Elle said.

"You snooze, you lose," Dean shot back.

"What if I fall off the bed?"

"Put the extra pillows and blankets on the floor to give you a soft landing," Sam suggested.

"You both are assholes."

"Yet you love us anyway," Dean said with a smirk.

"That's what you think."

Sam and Dean both laughed at her as she grumbled something under her breath before she dropped her bag to the floor. Elle took a bit of a running jump before she flung herself across her _tiny_ bed. Honestly, since she was shorter than her brothers, she really shouldn't be complaining about the smaller bed, but she had an unusual habit of taking over the whole bed. The only positive side was that some poor man wouldn't have to worry about her taking up the entire bed if they were married. Elle intended on never getting married. There was no use in dragging an innocent person into this life. There really wasn't a point to falling in love either—everyone she had known who had gone down that path had things end in pain, agony, and heartbreak. No, sir, that most certainly wasn't for her. Besides, she already had enough men in her life to drive her insane as it was. Elle rolled over onto her stomach and reached into her bag for her sketchbook and digital camera as she gave Sam the stink eye while he used his laptop on the table in the room. He had already warned her not to move to the bed he had claimed. She opened her sketchbook to a blank page before she started sketching the picture she had taken of the lake. Elle glanced up occasionally to see Dean going through his clothes that were in his duffel bag and Sam researching on his laptop. Sam leaned closer to his laptop screen with a slightly puzzled look on his face.

"Find something?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—there are more mysterious drowning victims than just our three this year," Sam answered.

"There always is."

"How many?" Dean asked.

"Uh—it looks like six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. One of them was a twelve year old girl. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace," Sam said after he read an article from _The Lake Manitoc Tribune_.

"So, what? We got a lake monster on the binge?" Dean asked.

"Maybe Nessie has made her way over," Elle joked.

"Its shit lake monster theories like that that bug the hell out of me," Sam groaned.

"I was only joking."

"Someone's defensive, why?" Dean asked.

By this point, Elle was sitting up on her bed as Dean tossed the shirt he had been messing with onto his bed before he walked to stand behind Sam. Both Dean and Elle looked to Sam as he seemed to be processing how to carefully word what he wanted to say. Dean prodded Sam's shoulder. The younger brother shoved the older brother away before he explained.

"_Nessie_—Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts of them, but here almost nothing."

"In Nessie's defense, she could have come across the Atlantic and then traveled the St. Lawrence Seaway and Great Lakes. It's plausible," Elle said.

"Really?" Sam scoffed.

"Hey, it's my job as the younger _annoying_ sister to give shitty off-the-wall theories sometimes. It helps our creative process."

"Whatever. All I know is that whatever is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

"Not so fast there cowboy—"Dean said. "This Christopher Barr name sounds familiar."

"Dean, he's the victim from May," Sam said.

"Look at the picture again."

Sam looked to his computer screen before looked to Dean and nodded his head. Elle wondered what she was missing, so she jumped off her bed and quickly walked over to where they sat at the table with the laptop. She saw the page's title _Local Man in Tragic Accident_. Underneath it was a picture of a police officer with a small boy.

"I don't get it," Elle said.

"Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued," Sam responded.

"Is the kid still alive?"

"Yeah—we met him and Dean was flirting with his mother—remember, he does like kids now."

"Shut up," Dean growled. "I've always loved kids."

"Loved doesn't have some dirty connotation, does it?" Elle asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Now who's the perv?" Dean said with his eyebrow cocked.

"That will always be you."

"Can we get back to the case?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Elle and Dean said simultaneously.

"Well, it looks like we have an eyewitness after all."

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over," Dean said.

"Or anyone you love for that matter," Sam added.

Elle awkwardly pushed her hair behind her ears. She hadn't really experienced death in that way. Sure, her mother was dead—but she never really got close enough to people to lose them. There weren't many people in this world that would qualify—hell, one of the people she was _close_ to could hardly even stand her; two were in the room with her and one was in South Dakota. She couldn't really think of anyone else to put on her list. She supposed it could be a good thing—then again, it could prove to be a downfall. She was thankful that neither of her brothers commented on the situation. Instead, Dean suggested that they go get something to eat before they start investigating a little more. They headed back to the diner Elle had visited earlier. Dean and Elle ate pie while Sam settled for a glass of water. Elle knew that she should probably be more concerned with her eating habits; but pie wasn't so bad. It had fruit in it, right? And fruit was healthy. Besides, if she got too fat, she could just blame Dean for teaching her poor eating habits.

When they were finished eating their pie, they headed toward the park. Elle spotted the lady who wouldn't give Dean the time of day. Dean must have seen her too because he led his younger siblings toward her. As they got closer to the bench, Dean gave her his famous grin; but she didn't look toward him. He then looked to Sam and nodded his head toward Andrea, mouthing for the younger Winchester to say something. Sam shook his head no, but Dean gave him an annoyed looked. They continued to have their silent argument until Elle rolled her eyes and took a step closer toward the woman.

"Can we join you?" Elle asked.

Andrea looked up to see Elle extending a hand toward her and Sam and Dean finishing up their silent argument in the background. When Dean noticed her looking at him he flashed her another grin.

"I'm here with my son," Andrea said pointing to a little boy on another bench with coloring materials and toy soldiers.

"Oh. Mind if I say hi?" Dean asked.

He didn't even wait for Andrea's response before he walked over to Lucas.

"Tell your friend this whole _Jerry Maguire_ thing is not gonna work on me," Andrea said somewhat stiffly.

Elle shook her head slightly. The fact that the woman even said anything meant that it had to be working just a little. She just hoped that the woman would be able to continue to spurn Dean's advances. It was for his own good, really. Sam and Elle sat down on the bench beside Andrea.

"I don't think that's what this is about," Sam responded.

"Besides, I wouldn't exactly call him my friend," Elle continued after which, Sam elbowed her.

"You're related to him, aren't you?" Andrea asked.

"What—what makes you think that?" Sam spluttered. "She never said that."

"The fact that he's hitting on me when he already has a pretty girl already following him around. It's the only thing that makes sense. But like I said, it's not gonna work for him. I'm not looking for _that_ or _him_."

There was an awkward silence between the three of them. For a moment, they sat and watched Dean interact with the kid. Whether Dean admitted it or not, he was pretty good with kids. He had to be. Hell, he practically raised Sam and Elle and they turned out—ok. Sure there were things he could have done better—but he had done right by his younger siblings. The scene kind of reminded Elle when she was younger, probably six or seven, when Dean snitched her a sketchbook and pencils. Dean had seen something in her scribbles back then and encouraged her to draw, something that she still did to this day. Elle couldn't help but smile at the thought—especially considering Dean was a crap drawer. But it looked like he was finishing coloring up a picture. Maybe she should have been the one to go talk to the kid. He seemed pretty fond of drawing and she was the artist of the family—but maybe Dean's craptastic coloring could get the kid to laugh. The oldest Winchester sibling headed back toward his brother and sister, without Lucas so much as muttering one word to him.

"Tough crowd," Dean said jokingly.

"Lucas hasn't said a word—not even to me. Not since his dad's accident," Andrea responded.

"Yeah, we heard about that. Sorry."

"What are the doctors saying?" Sam questioned.

"Uh—that it's some kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea answered.

"That can't be easy. For either of you."

"We uh—we moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just-when I think about what Lucas went through-what he saw…"

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with. Elle here's living proof of that," Dean said.

Elle could feel her face flushing at the mention of her name. Dean went on to explain how she drew to as an outlet. There actually had been a time when Elle was younger that she suffered from some post-traumatic stress herself. She had stupidly gone after her father when he was on a hunt and nearly died—for the first time in her recollection. That was also the first time she realized what they were actually doing. John wasn't happy about the situation and Elle was traumatized to find out about the scary things out there. For Lucas, the disorder, manifested as him not talking. In Elle, there were a few months where she got little to no sleep. Dean would have to hold her tight in order to get her to sleep and even then, sometimes she'd wake up screaming; but Dean would be right there to calm her back down. Eventually, Dean figured out that Elle seemed to sleep better at night when she scribbled with crayons on napkins at diners. How he figured that out, she wasn't sure; but it led to him stealing her art supplies and the rest was history. She would draw as a release of her emotions and eventually she got back to being able to sleep on her own and all through the night. Elle sighed. While she could relate to Lucas, Dean probably was the one who would be best to help him—after all, he helped her. And Dean must have gotten something through to the little boy because he walked over to them and handed Dean a picture, saying nothing, before he headed right back to his bench with crayons and army men.

Later, back in the motel room, Dean and Elle were playing cards. The game they were playing wasn't Dean's particular favorite game with cards—but it was better than Elle's first suggestion of _Go Fish_. He regretted ever teaching her that game when she was little. Elle was just about to beat him when she became distracted by Sam walking into the motel room.

"Elle, I think it's safe to say we can rule your Nessie theory out," Sam said.

"Hey, don't go dissing, Nessie," Elle commented turning toward Sam, not seeing Dean mess with her cards. "You're going to hurt her feelings."

"I don't think it's possible she's behind the most recent attack—I drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there and Will Carlton is dead—just like the others."

"He drowned?"

"Yeah—in the sink."

"The sink? How the hell does one drown in a sink?"

"Well whatever we're dealing with isn't a lake monster. Nessie'd never fit through the pipes," Dean said.

"Are you calling her fat?"

"Enough with the Nessie jokes," Dean growled. "We've got to figure out what exactly we're dealing with before it kills again."

Elle wanted to comment, but she knew that Dean snapping at her meant that he was worried. He was worried about Andrea and her son. Instead of saying anything, she slowly exhaled a breath before nodding her head.

"The question becomes: what. What are we dealing with?" Elle said coolly.

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe?" Dean responded.

"Maybe it's some kind of demon."

"Whatever the hell it is, it's something that controls water—water that comes from the same source."

"The lake," Sam finally jumped in.

"Yeah," Dean agreed nodding his head.

"Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining."

"Of course! It'll be dry in a few months and whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time," Elle continued.

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere," Dean furthered before he stood up. "This is gonna happen again and soon."

"And we do know one thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton," Sam said.

"Yeah—it took both his kids."

"I've also been asking around. Chris—Lucas's dad—he's Bill Carlton's godson."

"I think it's time we go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

Sam and Dean both headed toward the door without another word. Elle quickly got up and ran after them.

"Guys, can we go get a supply of bottled water first?" Elle shouted. "I don't want this thing coming after me while I'm brushing my teeth."

Her brothers both gave her _really?_ looks before they got into the car. Elle didn't want to take any chances of this thing figuring out that they were talking to Bill Carlton and then it coming after them. Begrudgingly, Dean stopped at the gas station and Elle bought a 24-pack of bottled water before hauling it out to the Impala. Sam and Dean looked at her like she was crazy as she took a sip of water from the bottle before Dean drove them back out to the Carlton house. When they arrived at the Carlton place, they found Mr. Bill Carlton almost exactly where they had left him: sitting on the bench on the dock. Elle walked a few paces behind Sam and Dean. If there wasn't something in the lake killing people, she would have been sorely tempted to push one of them into the lake.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam asked, causing Bill to look up with a great sadness in his eyes. "We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

"We're from the Department—" Dean started.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today," Bill Carlton said grumpily.

"Your son said he saw something in that lake—" Sam started.

"I said I'm done answering questions!"

With a sigh, Elle pushed past her brothers, almost knocking Sam into the lake; but he quickly caught his balance. Elle sat down on the bench beside Mr. Carlton. He ignored her and started out into the lake. Elle did the same. She sat there quietly and stared out into the water. Sam opened his mouth to say something but Elle shot him a look to shut up.

"I'm sorry about Sophie and Will," Elle said quietly. "I can't imagine what it's like to have your children die before you."

"It's—it's worse than dying," Bill said with his bottom lip quivering.

"You must have loved them so much."

"I loved them more than anything in the world. It's what a parent does."

"You're a good father, I can tell that; but I also know that as a good parent you want justice for their deaths. Mr. Carlton, we have reason to believe that their deaths might have some sort of connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone and I can't do nothing about it. Go away, please."

Elle pulled out a notebook from her bag and wrote down her cellphone number before tearing it out and handing it to Mr. Carlton.

"If you're ready to talk please give me a call," Elle said. "We want to help."

Sam, Dean, and Elle walked back to the Impala. Elle reached inside and pulled out her water bottle. If they were going to be here a while, she should probably ration it; but the thought of avoiding any water associated with the lake seemed to make her thirstier. Sam asked what they were supposed to do now if Bill Carlton wasn't talking to them. Dean looked over at the Carlton house before he pulled the picture Lucas drew him out of his pocket. Without Dean even saying anything both Sam and Elle drew the next logical conclusion. Lucas had to know something. He might not talk about it; but he had to know something. Dean drove the car over to Andrea's house. Andrea reluctantly let them inside and offered them some lemonade in her living room. Dean expressed their wish to talk to Lucas; but she didn't think that it was a good idea for them to see him.

"Just for a few minutes," Dean pleaded.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?" Andrea asked.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there," Sam responded.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"The tone of your voices says otherwise," Elle added.

"It's what I have to believe."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you even think there's a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me and Elle talk to your son," Dean said.

Andrea sighed before she led Sam, Dean, and Elle upstairs to Lucas's bedroom. Sam, Andrea, and Elle stopped at the doorway; but Dean grabbed Elle's arm practically dragging her inside.

"Me?" Elle asked. "What good will I do?"

"You've been there before," Dean said.

"And you're the one that got me out of it."

"Elle-Belle, please?"

Elle reluctantly followed Dean inside. She looked behind her to see Sam motioning her forward. For some reason he also thought that Dean needed her help. She knew that she was a pretty decent empathizer; but this situation was actually bringing up a lot of old memories for her. They walked closer to Lucas who was coloring once again with toy soldiers standing around him in a circle, as if they were protecting him—protecting from something they couldn't see. Dean and Elle crossed the circle of toy soldiers before they knelt down beside Lucas.

"Hey Lucas. Do you remember me?" Dean asked.

Lucas didn't respond. Instead he continued to color a picture of a red bicycle.

"You know, I—uh—I wanted to thank you for your last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again. I—um—I brought Elle this time. She's—uh—" Dean stammered.

"I'm his _cousin_," Elle finished. "I like your drawings. I draw too."

Elle pulled out her sketchbook and handed it to Lucas. Surprisingly he began to flip through the pages. For a moment he stopped on the picture Elle had drawn of her mother before he furiously began to flip until he came to the page Elle had drawn of the lake. Then Lucas grabbed his crayons and began drawing a person in the water on her picture. Elle was somewhat startled. She wanted to tear her sketchbook away from the boy, but Dean must have known how she'd react because he held tight onto her arm. Elle muttered something about Lucas making the picture look better. When he finished drawing the person, Dean put the picture of the house in front of Lucas.

"How did you know to draw these?" Dean asked. "Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." But Lucas continued to color.

"Dean that never worked for me" Elle whispered.

"A little help please?"

"Lucas, you're scared and that's okay. Believe me I get it. I've been scared before. But you know who was there for me when I was scared? My big brother, Dean. He just wants to help you—like he helped me. Let him help you." Elle then turned to Dean before whispering low. "You need to relate to him. That's what helped me."

"Hey buddy—Elle's right. It's okay to be scared. I saw some scary things when I was little too. See when I was your age, I saw something really bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave for my mom. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too."

Lucas dropped his crayon and looked up at Dean and Elle. He handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence. Oddly specific. Dean thanked Lucas before he stood up. Elle reached for her sketchbook but Lucas quickly slid it toward him before he began to furiously flip through it again. This time he stopped at the picture of the place she went in her dreams—the lake on a starlit night. It was probably one of her favorite drawings she had done. Lucas then snatched his black crayon from the floor and drew what looked like a giant black bird—or pair of wings on her favorite picture. He stopped and then pushed the sketchbook back toward her before he returned to his own drawings. Elle wanted to scream at him for ruining her favorite picture; but Andrea was already gently scolding him—even though he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. Elle shoved her sketchbook in her bag before she and her brothers went back to the car. The next thing to do was find the church and the yellow house—if they even really existed. As Dean drove to find the church, Elle couldn't help but complain about her ruined sketch.

"The kid freaking ruined my pictures," Elle grumbled.

"Andrea said that the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean countered.

"Okay—I understand the drowning body in one picture; but why ruin the other picture?"

"There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions and psychic tendencies," Sam tried to rationalize.

"That never happened to me. Besides, what the hell is a black bird the size of a lake supposed to mean?"

"Elle, that's not really a priority right now. Right now we gotta figure out what's going on here. Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean said. "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, but unless you think there's something more important Elle—please, be my guest."

"I say one little thing and you get all bitchy at me," Elle muttered.

"Guys, you do realize we have another house to find," Sam said.

"Only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone," Dean grumbled.

"That's not the only thing the kid drew," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"What difference is going to church going to make, Elle?"

"You're an ass."

"I think the point that Elle is trying to make is that there are less than a thousand churches around here—especially ones with yellow houses around them," Sam said.

"Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart," Dean said with a smirk.

"It was my idea first," Elle shouted.

"You were too busy calling me an ass to claim it as your own."

Elle slunk back in the back seat onto the pillow she had left back there to sulk. She knew that this little bickering wasn't going to last long between her and Dean—but still. He could be an ass sometimes. He tried to be all nice to her and then the next second he was an ass. Brothers. But when Sam brought up Dean talking about Mom, Elle couldn't really stay mad at him. It was almost that exact same conversation that helped her get through things. Elle sighed, knowing what Dean had been through with Mom. She wasn't sure what was worse—never knowing their mother or seeing her demise.

"Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Dean groaned.

Elle grinned and pressed a big sloppy kiss against Dean's cheek as he was driving. As he elbowed Elle, the Impala swerved a bit. Sam and Elle screamed a bit, but Dean only chuckled as he finished wiping Elle's slobber off his face. After a bit of searching, they came across a church that looked like the one in Lucas's picture. They stepped out of the car as Dean compared the fairly accurate picture to the scene in front of him. Just where Lucas had drawn—there was a yellow house with a wooden fence next to the church. Dean then led them over to the yellow house before he knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered the door with a smile on her face. Before even asking who they were, she ushered them inside to the entryway of her home.

"Would you like some water?" the woman asked.

"No!" Elle practically shouted at the woman.

"Forgive Elle, she's a bit jumpy," Dean said looking to Elle, giving her a look to behave herself. 'We're sorry to bother you, ma'am; but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue baseball cap, has a red bicycle."

"No sir. Not for a very long time now," The woman said her happy expression slowly saddening. "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now."

The woman pointed to a picture of a young boy on the side table. Elle's eyes widened at the picture. The boy had on a blue baseball cap and was standing with red bicycle. There definitely was something up with this Lucas kid. Sam got down to Elle's level before he pointed out the toy soldiers on the table. Okay, now this was getting creepy. She looked to Sam who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"The police never—_I_ never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared," the old woman said with misty eyes.

Dean walked over to where Sam and Elle were standing, examining the picture and toy soldiers. The woman continued talking as she stood behind the three Winchesters.

"Losing him—you know, it's—it's worse than dying."

"So we've heard," Elle sighed, realizing that Bill Carlton had said the exact same words.

The three Winchesters looked between themselves. This could be where it all began. It all had to come back to his point. Elle stood up and walked toward the woman. She gently took the woman's hand and squeezed it. But something caught her eye in the mirror.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean asked.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up," the woman answered.

Elle gently patted the woman's arm before she walked over to the mirror. She picked the picture off the mirror and examined it. There were two little boys in the picture. One was clearly Peter with his bicycle. She knew that older people tended to put names of people in the photograph on the back. So, she flipped the picture over and Elle shook her head. Sure enough: Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy. Elle held the photograph up to Sam and Dean who were asking Mrs. Sweeney a few more questions. She nodded toward to the door for them to leave before she put the picture back on the mirror. Sam thanked Mrs. Sweeney for her time before he headed out to the Impala with Dean and Elle. Elle opened another water bottle and she was just about to take a drink when Dean knocked it from her hands causing it to spill all over her. She tried to mop up the water, but she had a giant wet spot on the crotch of her jeans so it looked like she peed herself. Dean could hardly control his laughter.

"Damnit, Dean!" Elle hissed.

"You had something you wanted to tell us?" Dean asked trying to compose himself.

"You're annoying, you know that?"

"I meant something new—something you've never said before."

"_Billy Carlton_ was besties with Peter Sweeney. There was a picture taken of them in nineteen seventy."

"Okay—so now to put all the pieces together…" Sam started. This little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton."

"Yeah—and Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?"

"Not to mention that all the people Bill love die. Because losing them is _worse than dying," _Elle added.

"They're getting caught up in this—but it's gotta be Bill the thing is trying to punish," Sam theorized.

"So—let's say that Bill did something to Peter," Dean said.

"Not just something, Bill killed Peter."

"Which of course would mean that Peter's spirt would be beyond pissed off," Elle added.

"It'd definitely want revenge," Dean finished. "It's possible."

"It's the only thing that makes any sense since you guys keep shooting down Nessie."

Sam and Dean both gave Elle a glare, causing her to put her hands up in defense and tell them she was just joking—sort of. Dean put the car into drive and sped back toward the Carlton place. After as many times as they had driven there, Dean had the route memorized. He stopped the car right outside the Carlton house. Dean and Sam got out of the car right away. Elle told her brothers that she'd be there in a minute. She wanted to change her pants because the crotch was still wet. She didn't want the guy thinking she was incontinent. So, Sam and Dean walked toward the house without her as she changed into a pair of athletic shorts because they were the easiest thing to change into from the backseat of a car. She was just about to put her shoes back on when she heard Sam and Dean yelling for Mr. Carlton. Elle looked up to see her brothers racing toward the dock. Forgetting to put her shoes back on, Elle ran out of the car in her socks. By the time she got down to the down, Sam and Dean were still calling for Mr. Carlton who was in his boat and going further out into the lake. Elle's eyes widened at the next sight of the water rising up and flipping Bill's boat over. He and the boat vanished.

"That could definitely qualify as traumatizing," Elle said thinking Lucas might have seen something somewhat similar.

"You think?" Dean said sarcastically.

"So, it got what it wanted. Do you think this is over?" Sam asked.

"Is it ever actually over?" Elle muttered.

"There's one way to find out," Dean said. "We could always throw Elle in."

"No, don't you dare! We don't know that thing is gone."

"Which is why we have you."

Dean nodded in Sam's direction. Elle tried to make a run for it but they each grabbed one of her arms. She started screaming bloody murder as her brothers lifted her off the dock by her arms. Were they really that stupid that they were going to sacrifice her to whatever was in the lake? Why did she always have to be the freaking bait? They dangled her slightly over the edge of the dock before they both started to chuckle and then they put her safely back on the dock. Elle whacked both her brothers in the arm. She began to march back toward the Impala.

"I was just kidding Jelly-Belly," Dean said causing Elle to turn around.

"First of all, I freaking hate you. You're an ass. You're both asses. Second of all, that nickname's worse than the other stupid nickname. Don't you ever call me a jelly bean again! Third of all, I will get my revenge on you. You wait and see. I'm going to get you good. Both of you." Elle threatened.

Elle's threats only caused Sam and Dean to laugh harder. They both knew that her bark was far worse than her bite. She sneered at them before she began her walk back toward the car. A man just died and they were joking around with her. She knew that it was most likely a defense mechanism, but still. She crawled into the backseat of the Impala when she noticed that Dean had left his keys in the ignition. She then locked all the doors. So when Sam and Dean tried to get into the car, they couldn't. Dean pounded on the window and demanded that Elle let him in. She chose to ignore him and drink some bottled water instead.

"Is this supposed to be your revenge?" Dean questioned. "Because it's pretty pathetic."

"This is just me being pissed at the two of you," Elle said looking straight ahead. "It has nothing to do with my revenge."

"Elle, we need to get out of here before the cops show up," Sam furthered.

"Should have thought about that before you tried to get me killed."

"We never actually would have done it."

"You're overreacting," Dean added.

"F-you," Elle responded.

Both Sam and Dean knew that if they couldn't rationalize the situation with their sister, then they were just going to have to wait for Elle to do things on her sweet time. They both moved to the hood of the car and sat down until a police car drove up the drive. Elle heard Dean mutter an obscenity under his breath as Jake Devins got out of the car. A truck pulled up. It looked like a team that was ready to go out on the lake. Jake stopped right in front of Sam and Dean.

"_Officers_, what seems to be the problem?" Jake asked.

"It's Bill Carlton—he—uh—well, you see it's a bit complicated; something attacked him and he and his boat went under," Dean explained.

"I did get a report of a drowning. Why don't you give me all the details in town?"

"Or we could do it right here."

"I wasn't asking you. I was telling you we're doing this in town. And to make sure that you don't take off I will be following you all the way back to the station."

Elle unlocked the doors before her brothers slid into the Impala, Jake watching their every move. Dean started the car, but sat there for a moment, just letting it run.

"He knows something," Dean said.

"And what exactly are we supposed to tell him?" Sam questioned.

"He's never gonna buy the truth," Elle responded.

"You know, if you wouldn't have been such a stubborn bitch we wouldn't be in this situation," Dean growled.

"Hey—don't go blaming this on me."

"We could have been on the road by now," Sam added.

"And now we have Devins on our ass, just great," Dean muttered.

Dean waved to Devins before he took off down the driveway. The drive back into town was a silent one for the Winchesters. Elle was trying to figure out a plausible reason for them being out there. Maybe she could say that Bill gave her a call—only phone records would show that he didn't. When they finally got into town, Jake led them to the police station. Inside the police station sat Lucas and Andrea, although Lucas was rocking frantically back and forth in a chair while Andrea tried to get him to calm down. When she noticed the Winchesters, Andrea greeted them by name, much to the dismay of Jake who immediately questioned what Andrea was doing there in the first place. Apparently, she was just trying to bring him some dinner—or at least that was her cover story. Elle could tell that there was something else on Andrea's mind and her suspicions were confirmed when the woman asked about Bill Carlton and the lake. Jake looked at her and sighed.

"Right now, we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home," Jake told Andrea.

Lucas then began whine loudly before he jumped up and latched onto Dean's arm. Dean looked at the young boy in confusion.

"Lucas, hey, what is it? Lucas."

But Lucas didn't respond to Dean. Andrea tried to calm her son down and pull him away from Dean. When she finally managed to break Dean free from Lucas's grasp, Lucas still wouldn't keep his eyes off of Dean. Something was off. It was as if he didn't want Dean to go anywhere. But why? This kid had been spot on about most things before—but what did this mean? He hadn't drawn anything terrifying. But Elle was interrupted from her thoughts by Jake ushering them into his office.

"Now, just so I'm clear, you three saw—something attack Bill's boat?" Jake asked.

"Basically," Elle responded.

"Sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Dean said.

"Besides, like I said before two-thirds of all drownings—" Elle started.

"I don't think the man wants a lesson in statistics," Dean muttered to Elle.

Jake leaned across his desk and shook his head.

"You really expect me to believe this? I've already sonar-swept that entire lake and they're out there doing it again. Not to mention that what you're describing is impossible—something big enough in that lake to capsize a boat—"

"Nessie," Elle coughed.

"You trying to be funny girl? Well how's this for funny—you three aren't really with the Wildlife Service." Jake stopped for a moment to examine their expressions. Sam's expression was stone. Elle's glance was on the floor. And Dean looked genuinely surprised. "That's right, I check. Department's never heard of you three."

"See now, we can explain that—" Dean started.

"Enough. Please." Jake said holding his hand up. "The only reason you're still breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat before you did and called it in. So, the way I see it is we have a couple of options here. One, I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or two, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good," Sam responded.

"That's the one I'd pick."

"But door number one is awfully tempting," Elle responded before all the men in the room began to glare at her. "Sorry, defense mechanism. I get sarcastic. Door number two it is."

"Good. I want to see you out of my town within the hour."

They went back to the motel and quickly packed their things and headed out of town. They stopped at the first fast foot place outside of Lake Manitoc for dinner before they headed for I-43. Elle wasn't exactly sure where they were going—and she was pretty sure Dean didn't know either. Dean was lost in his thoughts and was fairly quiet, which wasn't completely unusual—but she expected something from him. They came to a stop at a traffic light before they got to I-43. If they turned left they would head north toward Milwaukee. When the light turned green, the Impala just sat there. Thankfully there wasn't a car behind them—otherwise there definitely would have been honking.

"Dude, green," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The light is green," Elle clarified for Sam.

Dean looked between his siblings before he took a hard right turn, headed in the opposite direction. Elle reached for something to clutch onto.

"What the hell?" Elle gasped.

"Uh—man—the interstate's the other way," Sam added.

"I know," was all Dean responded.

Dean continued to watch the road.

"Can I ask where we're going?" Elle questioned.

"Where do you think?" Dean grumbled.

"Uhh—I don't recall a door number three."

"Well, I'm making one."

"But Dean, this job, I think it's over," Sam said trying to rationalize with Dean.

"I'm not so sure."

"We talked about this. If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirt got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"Remember you did try to throw me in the lake after all," Elle added. "You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think—"

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?" Sam asked.

"Because Lucas was really scared. That's why."

"That's what this is about? What's with the fascination with this kid? Feeling sentimental?"

"I just don't want to leave town until I know the kid's okay."

"I've only seen you act this way once before and the details are a little hazy."

"If you're talking about me—" Elle interrupted.

"Of course I'm talking about you. But man, Elle's your sister. This kid—"

"I just want to check and make sure the kids all right and then we're out. I promise," Dean said.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?"

"Shut up."

"I thought I was special, Dean," Elle teased.

"Shut up." Was all he repeated, but Elle didn't miss his smirk in the rearview mirror.

It was somewhat late by the time they pulled up in front of Andrea's house. There weren't any lights on that they could see. Everyone must be asleep—or that would be the typical assumption; but Dean got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Sam and Elle looked to each other before they followed him onto the front porch.

"Are you sure about this, man?" Sam asked. "It's pretty late."

Dean responded by ringing the doorbell. At that exact moment, Lucas opened the door with his eyes wide in terror. It was obvious he was afraid—but of what remained unknown. Dean got down to the boy's level and shouted his name; but the boy didn't say anything. Instead he took off in a dead sprint for the stairs. Dean quickly took off right behind him and Sam and Elle were behind their older brother. As they ran up the stairs, they had to be careful not to slip on the water that was cascading down the stairs. Elle wasn't going to say anything; but she assumed the worst was going to happen. In the hallway, they could see Lucas pounding on a door Elle assumed to be the bathroom door since the water was pouring out from underneath it. Dean pushed Lucas over to Elle who wrapped her arms tightly around him as Dean kicked in the door. Dean told Elle to keep Lucas outside the bathroom. She nodded in agreement. Despite the fact that he had ruined her pictures, the poor thing didn't need yet another traumatic experience in his life. Lucas squirmed under her arms; but he couldn't escape.

"Sweetheart, it's safer for you out here," Elle whispered to him. "Your mom would want you to stay safe. She loves you and wants you to stay safe. Sam and Dean are going to do their best to help her."

Lucas seemed to stop struggling for a moment, taking in Elle's words before he started to squirm again. Elle just held him tighter as she could hear Sam and Dean somewhat struggling to get Andrea. Andrea gasped for breath but then there was another sound of her plunging into water. Elle wished she could unhear what she heard for Lucas's sake. But finally, the sound of Andrea coughing up water and Dean telling her that it was going to be all right gave those in the hallway reassurance. Elle whispered to Lucas that his mother was safe; but she held tightly on to him until Andrea came out into the hallway wrapped in a bathrobe. She released him and watched the tender moment between mother and son—a moment that could have been forever taken away from them had Dean not had some sixth sense to come back to Lake Manitoc. Lucas clung to his mother—not wanting to let her go. Andrea just held on to him, even bringing him downstairs and letting him sleep on the couch just so she could keep a close eye on him.

Sam and Dean stayed in the living room with Lucas, while at the same time rifling through bookshelves for anything that could help them solve this case. Things should have ended when Bill Carlton sacrificed himself; but the fact that Andrea almost died meant there was more to the puzzle. Once Andrea was in some actual dry and comfortable clothing, she sat at the kitchen table while Elle made her some tea.

"You're lucky that there really isn't a way to ruin tea," Elle chuckled. "I'm not exactly domesticated. But I don't really get much of a chance living on the road with my two knuckle-headed brothers."

Andrea didn't respond. Elle sat the mug of tea in front of Andrea which the woman eagerly accepted. The mother of Lucas took a sip from the mug before returning her glance outside. Elle sat down across from Andrea.

"Can you tell me?" Elle asked.

"No," Andrea said flatly. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to make sense. Believe me I've seen my fair share of things that don't make sense."

"I'm going crazy," Andrea began to cry. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"No, you're not. What Dean said about my traumatic experience was true. I—I saw something that couldn't possibly be real—or at least I didn't think it could be real at the time; but it was. It was terrifyingly true. Shutting it all inside and telling yourself that you're crazy makes thing worse. You don't have to tell me, but you need to tell someone and Dean, Sam, or I will believe whatever it is you tell us. It's not too crazy for us."

Andrea was silent for a moment before she looked to Elle with her eyes shining with tears as the sunrise began to filter through the curtains.

"I hear—I thought I hear—there was a voice."

"What did it say?" Elle asked.

"It said—it said 'come play with me.'"

Andrea began to sob harder. Elle reached her hand across the table and grasped Andrea's. Elle tried to put on a friendly face for the woman to look to; but honestly, she didn't like always having to do the womanly emotional/empathizing stuff—even if she was good at it. Suddenly, Dean came rushing into the kitchen with a scrapbook in his hands. "Jake 12 years old" is written on the spine. He sets the book down in front of Andrea and bends down to her level.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" Dean asked.

"What?" Andrea asked looking to Dean. "Um—uh—no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures."

Dean nodded his head for her to continue talking; but her fingers slid across the photographs. Elle saw the picture upside down, but she could tell what Dean was trying to get from Andrea. He wanted her to see the picture beside the one of Explorer Troop 37. The picture of Jake, as a child, standing next to Peter Sweeney. Elle's eyes met Dean's and he nodded.

"Do you know this kid?" Dean asked Andrea.

"No—I've never seen him before," Andrea sniffled.

"His name is Peter Sweeney. He died around the time this picture was taken," Elle said lightly.

"Dad's never mentioned him."

Dean motioned for Elle to follow him. Sam, Dean, and Elle met in the doorway.

"We've been wrong about Christ Barr's drowning," Dean said. "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff."

"Or both—Bill _and _the sheriff were both involved with Peter," Sam continued.

"Meaning that he was on this spirit's hit-list since the moment he came into existence and then he upped the ante when he married into Jake's family," Elle added. "Poor guy."

"What about Chris and my dad? What are you talking about?" Andrea said walking toward them with the mug of tea in her hand.

From where she was standing, Elle had the best view of Lucas as he got off the couch and walked toward the window. He just stood there and stared. Elle elbowed Dean before she pointed to Lucas. Dean looked concerned as he called Lucas's name. Lucas turned toward them, but he didn't look at them. Instead, he walked right past them and out the front door. The four adults followed after the young boy who almost seemed to be in some sort of trance. His mother called for him, but he continued to walk without turning around and looking at her. Lucas suddenly stopped and began an intense staring match with the ground. He then looked to Dean for a split-second before returning his gaze to the same spot on the ground. Dean turned toward Andrea.

"You and Lucas get back in the house and stay there, okay?"

Andrea nodded her head before she began pulling her son back toward the house. All the while, Lucas continued to stare at that patch of ground. Dean told Sam and Elle to go back to the Impala to get some shovels so that they could start digging. Elle looked back at Dean as she walked away, but his eyes were on Andrea and Lucas watching from the window. She didn't fully understand his attachment to them—but if Sam's assumption was correct, it might have had something to do with her. Sam and Elle came back with three shovels and they immediately began digging. They were a ways down when Sam's shovel clanked against something metal. Whatever it was—was done there. The Winchesters dug quickly with their hands before a red bicycle was unearthed.

"This looks familiar," Elle commented.

"Peter's bike," Sam added.

"But why the hell is it here?" Dean questioned.

"Who are you?" a voice growled from behind them.

Elle, Sam, and Dean armed themselves with shovels before they turned around to reveal their identities to Jake who had a gun pointed at them. Elle took a few steps to her left so that Sam's body was somewhat a shield for her.

"Put the gun down, Jake," Sam said calmly.

Sam usually was the stable negotiator of the group. Elle and Dean sometimes ran into problems—especially those years Sammy wasn't around. Jake nodded to the shovels they were armed with. Immediately, the Winchesters dropped their shovels; but Jake continued to aim his gun at them. Elle muttered her frustrations under her breath. Jake took a few steps closer to them, his eyes were practically disbelieving of the red bicycle beside the Winchesters.

"How did you know that was there?" Jake asked.

"What happened Jake?" Dean asked. "You and Bill kill Peter? Drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?"

"You can't bury the truth," Sam added. "Nothing stays buried."

"You did try pretty hard though," Elle commented.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jake said gruffly.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeny thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about," Dean growled.

"I don't know how much plainer it gets than that," Elle added.

"Now, do the right thing and put the gun down," Sam said.

"Would it help if we said please?"

"Dad, what are you doing?" Andrea pleaded.

"Go back to the house," Jake growled. "This isn't any of your business."

"Actually it is," Dean argued. 'We've got one seriously pissed-off spirit that's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, and everyone you love."

"Do you hear yourself talking? You're crazy."

"No he's not. It's gonna drown them and it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where," Sam added. "All so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt."

"The feeling that's worse than dying itself," Elle explained. "And after you feel that pain and suffering, it's gonna take you and this isn't gonna stop until it does."

"And how do you three know that?" Jake spat.

"It's exactly what the thing did to Bill Carlton," Sam said.

"You're insane. All three of you. I should have you carted off—"

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us; but if we're gonna bring this spirit down, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust," Dean explained. "Now please tell me that you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me that you didn't just let him go in the lake."

The look on Jake's face said it all. He looked toward the lake for a brief second before looking back to the Winchesters. Elle groaned. She could tell that Peter was in the lake—somewhere—if they were lucky _maybe_ they would find him. But until then, no one connected to Jake Devins was safe. Andrea questioned her father, trying to get him to come clean. At first, Jake just brushed his daughter off—but when she pleaded with him to tell her that he didn't kill anyone, Jake looked away. Andrea took a few steps away from her father in shock, knowing what the Winchesters had already assumed to be true.

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Jake explained, his voice beginning to quiver. "Oh, Andrea, we were just kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But Andrea, to say that I have anything to with these recent drownings, with Chris, because of some damn ghost. It's just not rational."

"In case you haven't noticed, not much about life is rational and I've only had twenty-one years of them," Elle said.

"What do we do now?" Andrea asked Dean.

"You three—and any family you have in the area need to get as far away from this lake as possible. You gotta find a place that has no connection to this lake," Dean said. "And you can't come back until you know his body has been found and properly disposed of."

"You just expect me to pack up and leave everything?" Jake asked.

"If you love your family and want to keep them safe, then yes, you will."

"If you're questioning my love—"

"He's not. He's just trying to help keep them safe," Sam intervened. "Please, you gotta understand that we're trying to help."

Then, it seemed as if everything began to move in slow-motion. Andrea turned her head for a brief moment before she released a bloody-curdling scream. She saw Lucas headed down for the lake. She must have believed what they were saying because she took off toward her son, followed by the three Winchesters and Jake. Jake of course, was not in his best shape so it took him a little longer to reach the dock. They were halfway down the dock calling Lucas's name, when he reached into the water to pick up a toy soldier that had fallen in the water. Dean called for him to stay where he was; but Lucas's hand grasped around the toy and then a hand tightly clutched around Lucas's hand. The hand yanked hard, pulling Lucas into the water. The mute boy disappeared under the water as Peter held him under the water with a smile on his face. The dead kid was kinda creepy with his face sticking out of the water and his gaze on Jake. Jake stopped when he recognized Peter as he let Lucas up for a breath of air before pushing his head back under the water. Andrea tore her jacket off and was about ready to jump in when Sam and Dean jumped off the dock. Elle took hold of Andrea's arm, stopping her from jumping in after them. She tried to fight it, but when Sam came

"Andrea, you can't go in there," Elle said.

"My son is in there!" Andrea yelled at Elle.

"We will get him! You just need to promise me that you'll stay on the dock. I—I will go out there for you."

Andrea nodded her head. Elle wasn't sure why the hell she agreed to jump into a lake with a vengeful spirit in it—probably had something to do with the fact that she felt for the woman. Why did other people's pain have to become her own? Elle wrapped her fingers around her nose, plugging it before she took the plunge in after her brothers. Her brothers both came up for some air before going back down—Elle wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but she followed her brother's lead. Then suddenly, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle. Elle had anticipated the hand of a vengeful spirit to be much colder, meaning that it wasn't Peter's hand—it was Lucas's. Elle needed a breath, so she came up for air but hand its grasp. How had Lucas managed to find her in this murky water? She looked down and the only thing visible was the bright red of her Converse sneakers. She needed to keep swimming so Lucas could find her again.

"Sam, Elle?" Dean called.

"It's too dark," Sam said coughing up water.

"He can see my shoes," Elle responded.

"Toss me one!" Dean demanded.

Elle yanked her left shoe from her foot before she chucked it at Dean like a football. He caught it easily before he dove down into the water once again dangling Elle's shoe for Lucas to spot. Sam followed after Elle because her other shoe was still on her foot. While they were under, Jake took off his jacket and began to wade into the water shouting for Peter to hear him. Elle surfaced just in time to hear the man's final plea to Peter—to take him instead of his grandson. The Winchesters shouted for him to go back to shore, but the man didn't listen. Instead he looked bravely ahead as Peter surfaced. Jake begged for it to be over to which Peter obliged and dragged Jake down under the water. Andrea screamed for her father. The Winchesters dove under the water once again—they had to save someone. Elle was the first to surface, coughing up water. She wasn't the most proficient swimmer. Andrea looked to her in tears before she tore her gaze to Sam who came up for air next. Sam shook his head before Andrea cried out "no!" Elle became worried for Dean. He hadn't surfaced yet. Had Peter taken him? He had saved her countless times—now it looked like he needed her. Elle dove under once again, she swam a few feet when she noticed Dean somewhat struggling to get to the surface. She reached for his arm and pulled as hard as she possibly could. He looked to her, fearing that she might be Peter out for revenge—but when he noticed that it was Elle, he kicked harder to get the weeds wrapped around his foot off. Finally, Elle surfaced with Dean who was holding tightly onto Lucas who wasn't moving, but was clutching tightly to Elle's red Converse sneaker. Dean coughed up water as Elle helped him guide Lucas to the dock where Andrea burst into tears. Andrea lifted her son onto the dock before he began to twitch. The twitching led to coughing and then his eyes flinging open; but he still held tightly onto that shoe. Sam, Dean, and Elle got out of the water and onto the dock as Andrea held onto her son tightly.

"Looks like those damn expensive shoes of yours came in handy for once," Dean said to Elle. "Lucas found the shoe and he grabbed a hold of it before he passed out."

"Speaking of Lucas, we should probably get him inside and warmed up," Sam said.

Dean nodded before he easily picked Lucas up and headed for the house. Andrea stayed right by Dean's side. Elle couldn't help but smile and Sam grinned at Elle knowing exactly what she was thinking. Too bad this life was so difficult otherwise Elle might have thought that Andrea could have been a decent match for Dean. Elle sighed and wrapped her soaking arm around Sam, leaning heavily on him. She wasn't sure whether to feel happy that they rescued Lucas or sad that Jake had to sacrifice himself in order for that to happen. Usually they were in the business of saving people—not losing them. Sam and Elle grabbed their duffel bags out of the car so that they could change into some dry clothes. Back in the house, Dean was starting the fireplace as Andrea fussed with getting Lucas out of his wet clothes and into a blanket before letting him rest on the couch.

They sat there in silence until Lucas went to sleep. And even when Lucas was asleep, Andrea watched him for a good twenty minutes before she said a single word to the Winchesters. She offered to put their dry clothes in the dryer and then to fix them up something to eat. They knew that Andrea was making excuses for them to stay a little longer to make her feel a little safer. Elle couldn't help but smile at Lucas on the couch sleeping. He was cuddled with her shoe—the shoe that had been like a lifeline for him. Elle set the other one beside him. She could always get new shoes. Elle then meandered onto the dock, just to think. She was surprised when Dean wasn't too far behind her.

"Just wanted to tell you that we're heading back to the motel in five," Dean said.

Elle nodded. Dean turned to head back to the house; but Elle stopped him.

"Does Lucas remind you of me?" Elle asked Dean.

"A bit," Dean chuckled. "He's not as bitchy though."

"I'm not a bitch. I just know I have to be one in order to get a word in with you guys."

"I'm just teasing. But maybe that's what drew me to this one. God, Elle it was hard seeing you like that when you were little. I was scared you would never get over it. Just don't tell anyone I said that—otherwise I will deny it."

"And do you think it's over here?"

"I do. Jake was the last thing Peter's spirit needed. Can't say I like how things went down—but it's over."

Elle tightly hugged Dean. She hugged him for being her big brother and because she could have lost him tonight. She hugged him for always being there for her and just because. She knew she didn't hug him enough—then again, hugging wasn't a big part of the Winchester family appreciation methods. Maybe that could change—at least for her.

"What's this for?" Dean asked going rigid.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did for me when—" Elle started.

"Elle, you don't have to thank me. You're my little sister and I was just doing my job."

"But you still deserve appreciation. I know I get snarky and everything, but I wouldn't be the person I am today without you."

"Son-of-a-bitch Elle. You had to make this a chick-flick moment, didn't you? You know I don't do chick-flick moments."

"You know you love me."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Elle flashed her brother a grin before she walked away from him, flipping her hair behind her. With her back to him, Elle didn't notice the grin on Dean's face. It was too late when she heard him running after her on the dock. She turned to see him sprinting toward her with his hands outstretched. She moved to run, but his hands met her body, giving her a proper shove and pushing her into the lake. Elle screamed as she fell in with a giant splash. She spluttered as she came up for air, with a pissed off expression on her face.

"Look at that—you're all _dripping wet_," Dean said with a giant smirk on his face. "How's that for dirty connotations for you?"

"You. Ass." Elle hissed through gritted teeth. "I just changed my clothes."

"Way too much information, Elle-Belle. I don't wanna hear about _that_."

Dean childishly covered his ears with his hands. Elle mustered up a sneer before she began to splash Dean with water. He started running up the dock toward land, covering his face with his jacket as Elle followed him to the shoreline in the water, splashing him the entire way. Once they were out of the water, Elle jumped onto Dean's back before he took off running with her on his back, laughing toward the car. They found Sam waiting, shaking his head. Elle slid off her brother's back and quickly grabbed another change of clothes to change into before she said goodbye to Andrea. Dean let Andrea know they were headed to town to stay in the motel for the night—so that they could get a decent night's sleep before they hit the road tomorrow. Andrea nodded her head and waved awkwardly as Dean and Elle walked out the door. They were almost to the car when Elle reached up and gently smacked Dean's head.

"If ever there was a time a girl wanted you to kiss her—that was it and you missed it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

After a night in the motel—to which Elle beat both the boys to a full-sized bed, relegating Dean to the rollaway bed, they were ready to leave Lake Manitoc about mid-morning. Dean was a little quite though. Elle knew he was beating himself up over not being able to save Jake—or maybe not kissing Andrea; but she assumed it was the former. As the boys packed up the car, Elle sat on the hood of the Impala flipping through her sketchbook. She stopped at the lake picture with the big black poorly drawn bird on it. All of Lucas's other pictures had meant something and come true so far—but this one she had no idea to what it was referring to. Death perhaps? But she was pretty sure reapers didn't look remotely like that. She quickly shut her sketchbook when she saw Andrea and Lucas walking toward them. Elle jumped off the front of the car and walked over to where Sam and Dean stood as Andrea and Lucas drew closer

"We're so glad that we caught you. We just—um—we made you lunch for the road," Andrea said as Lucas offered a tray of sandwiches toward them. "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas asked.

"Of course."

The Winchesters smiled at the sound of Lucas's voice. While things would never be exactly normal again, they could start going back to somewhat normal. Andrea smiled and kissed Lucas on the head before she pushed him a bit toward Elle.

"Elle, Lucas has something to give back to you," Andrea said as Lucas held the red Converse out toward her.

"Nah—you keep 'em," Elle said with a smile. "Besides, they'll look much cooler on you."

Lucas grinned as he kicked off his own shoes and put Elle's shoes, which were too big for him, on his own feet. Dean then suggested that Lucas help him finish loading the car. Sam asked Andrea how she was holding up. Clearly, the situation had taken its toll on her—but she was optimistic to still have her son alive. For which she said she would forever be grateful to the Winchesters and they had an open invitation to her home. Dean walked Lucas back toward them before he got down on his knees to talk to him.

"All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zepplin rules!" Lucas shouted.

They all chuckled as Dean nodded his head. Elle walked toward Lucas. She had to know if he remembered anything. She pulled out her sketchbook and opened it to the picture that she had been examining earlier. He looked at the picture for a moment before Elle spoke to him.

"Hey Lucas, do you remember what this means?" Elle asked him holding up the sketch he scribbled on.

"I don't remember," Lucas said sadly. "I want to help you, since you helped me. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Elle said pushing a stray hair out of her face. "Really, I'm sure it's nothing."

"But buddy, you helped a lot. Besides, you can help us even more by taking care of your mom for us," Dean said ruffling Lucas's hair.

"All right," Lucas said with a grin.

Dean stood up and Andrea kissed Dean, which clearly surprised him. He then walked around to the driver's side of the car. With one finger, Elle motioned for Lucas to come a little closer to her.

"He's not the only one that deserves a kiss for his bravery," Elle chuckled before she pressed a peck against Lucas's cheek. Lucas's face turned bright red, but he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Sammy, Elle-Belle—move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road," Dean said.

Dean jumped into the car and started the engine before Sam or Elle could get in as Bad Company's _Movin' On_ came through the speakers. The Winchesters smiled and waved at Andrea and Lucas who were waving goodbye to them. Dean put the car into drive and they took off down the road. Elle took a sandwich and reached for her hoard of bottled water; but she couldn't find it anywhere in the back.

"Is my water up there?" Elle asked.

"You gave Lucas your shoes, so I gave him your water supply," Dean said with a smirk.

Elle playfully whacked her brother in the arm as the Impala hit the open road with the Winchesters ready for whatever came their way—which hopefully would lead to their father soon. It was only a matter of time, right?

* * *

**Author's note:** Phew! Another chapter done for ya'll—and there was hints dropped about the unknown—how she came to be. Dun. Dun. Dunn. Haha. Although, it's gonna be a few more chapters before she gets a better idea of what happened—although she won't get all the pieces. I would like to thank you all so much for those who have reviewed/favorited/followed/read this story. Really, I was slightly scared about jumping into the Supernatural fandom; but you guys are awesome. So thanks for that!

**Nixdragon:** Thank you for all the lovely reviews friend. And I wrote more—I hope it was all right for you. You're just lucky I let you get a sneak peek of it! Haha. Thanks for putting up with all my annoying questions and making you read things fifty-million times. Love ya!

**TemperanceWinchesterPotter:** I updated a lot sooner than I did last time! Sorry about the long wait last time—this should hopefully be a more normal time of updating. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter and I hoped that you liked this one as well. I'm glad that you enjoy Elle too. She's starting to become an actual part of the series for me.

**RebornRose1992:** Thank you for taking the time to review! I hope you found this chapter somewhat enjoyable as well!

**Marloweee1856:** I updated sooner than I did last time. I hope that you liked this chapter as well—the drama between Sam and Elle is gone for right now—haha—they're stubborn Winchesters and it's bound to resurface eventually. Thanks for taking the time to review my story. I really appreciate it.

**Guest (1):** Yay! I'm glad that you found it too and that you're enjoying it. I'll admit I was scared jumping into this fandom. Haha. Thanks for reviewing.

**Marshmallow Attack:** Wow, three reviews! Thanks! I really appreciate your thoughts about my story. I really hope that it doesn't disappoint and that your love for it continues. Haha.

**Aurora:** I'm flattered that you love my story and that you took the time to review. Thanks so much! I hope you continue to like Elle. You stay awesome too! :)

**Guest (2):** Thank you for the compliments. I really appreciate them. And I agree—she is in the series for me now. I'm not even close to season 10 nor has it aired yet—but I already have ideas for what's going to happen. Does that mean there's something wrong with me? Haha.


	5. Phantom Traveler

_**Us Against the World**_

By January Lily

* * *

Fly up to the surface and just start again

* * *

**Chapter 5: Phantom Traveler**

Another night. Another city. Another motel. Elle slung her backpack and her duffel bag over her shoulders before she slammed the Impala's car door shut. She looked upward into the night's cloudy sky, lifting her face toward the rain. There was something about the rain that she loved. It probably had something to do with the thought of the rain washing away any pain or agony, leaving things fresh and new. Of course, she knew it was just a nice thought; but sometimes one just needed something hopeful to cling to. Her reverie in the rain caused Sam and Dean to get a head start on her to their new room for the night. Elle splashed through the puddles in her new blue Converse sneakers trying to catch-up to her brothers so that she could get one of the bigger beds. But she was too late. Her brothers had left the door open for her, claiming both the full-sized beds for themselves meaning she would get the smaller roll-away bed.

"You two are assholes," Elle muttered.

"You're the one who chose to stand out in the rain," Dean said kicking his wet shoes off and resting his feet on his bed.

"We didn't have this problem when _someone_ was off at school."

"Really? You're gonna pick a fight about that?" Sam groaned. "First you're pissed that I leave. Then you're pissed that I'm here. Make-up your mind, Elle."

"Someone's grouchy."

"You just insulted the guy, what else do you expect?" Dean commented.

"I'm sleep-deprived. You both know that you can't hold me accountable for what I say when I'm like this."

"She does make a fair point."

"I might be less insulting if I got some sleep in a bigger bed."

"Not gonna happen," Sam scoffed.

"You snooze you lose, little sister," Dean said solemnly before flashing a grin.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you two?" Elle groaned.

"Never."

"You might have to say it a few more times for it to sink in," Sam added.

Elle glared at both her brothers before shutting the door behind her with her foot. With a huff she walked over to her bed for the night and plopped onto it as Sam flicked the television on as he relaxed on his bed. Elle pulled out her cellphone. There were no missed calls or messages. For some reason she had been hoping for word from their father. Although, she was probably the last person he would contact. He would probably call Sam before he would call her; but there was just some part of her that wanted him to have a change of heart and realize how much she loved him. How much she tried to please him—despite knowing that it was never going to be enough. She didn't know why, but after the last few cases, she wanted to see if maybe her dad was proud of her and how she worked on these cases. But that was probably too much to ask for. Elle was startled by Dean who snapped his fingers in her face.

"Earth to Elle-Belle."

"I was thinking," Elle said kicking her brother in his shin.

"I don't care what you were doing. I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." Dean slapped Elle's thigh.

"That hurt."

"That was the point. Now let's go. Sammy?"

"I'm just gonna stay here," Sam responded with a yawn.

"It's food. How can you say no?"

"Maybe we're not related to him?" Elle suggested.

"It's the only logical explanation."

"Ha. Ha. You two are hilarious," Sam said sarcastically.

"At least he finally admits it," Elle said with a smirk.

Elle motioned with her hands for Dean to help her to her feet. Dean grumbled as he pulled his sister up by her arms until she was standing straight on her feet. Elle followed Dean outside and into the rain which was beginning to downpour. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up to shield her face from the water as she ran toward the Impala. For once she actually got the front seat—something she had gotten used to until a few months ago. Dean slid into the driver's seat beside Elle. Elle couldn't help but feel comfortable. She loved Sam, he was her brother, she had to—but she always felt safe with Dean. He had always been there for her—since she could remember—or at least, if he was being an ass, he always had her best interest at heart. Dean drove them to the closest diner near the motel. Elle considered having what she referred to as _old faithful_: a burger and fries; instead, she opted for the evening's special of a French Dip sandwich with au jus and fries. Dean got a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

"Have you noticed anything off about Sam?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean?" Elle asked taking a sip of soda.

"I don't know—he's just acting weird."

"You'd act weird too if you hadn't seen your family in two years and then when you finally get one big happy family reunion your girlfriend dies. Just sayin'."

"You think this is about Jess?"

"Have you or Dad ever gotten over what happened to Mom?"

"Over it? No. I just learned how to deal with it I guess."

"Mostly by burying it, as is the Winchester way; which answers the question about Dad. But the situations are fairly similar. You've had years to process Mom. Sam's only had weeks."

"I guess you're right."

"Usually am."

"Don't forget I taught you everything you know."

"That's not true. You made Sam teach me about feminine products."

"Hey, I helped with that."

"You sat there laughing your ass off. It wasn't helping."

"Sammy was much more informed about the subject."

"Because you made him read the instructions. Something I was more than capable of—you just wanted a laugh."

"Would you have preferred Dad have done it?"

Elle didn't answer, leaving them hanging at an awkward moment. Whenever John Winchester got brought up—things got awkward. But she did ponder Dean's question in her head. No, she definitely wouldn't have preferred that their father tell her. It had been much more entertaining watching Sam try and mumble his way through it embarrassingly with Dean rolling on the floor in laughter. Elle slightly smiled as Dean motioned for the check.

"Do you think we should bring Sam back some food?" Elle asked her brother.

"I think I saw some grass outside the motel. I'm sure it all tastes the same," Dean responded.

Dean took the bill from the waitress as Elle asked her to tack a garden salad on there for Sam. The older Winchester commented that he still thought grass would have been good enough for which Elle kicked him under the table. Dean shook his head at her because this was the second time she had kicked him that night. Elle wasn't typically prone to violence unless she was comfortable with someone—then sometimes it was hard to tell whether she did it because she was joking around or because she was actually pissed. She always played it off with a playful expression, but Dean knew that deep-down she wasn't always doing it for a laugh. The waitress eventually came back with a salad in a to-go container and a new check, which Dean grudgingly paid before they ran back out to the Impala in the rain. When they were back in the motel's parking lot, Elle slipped in a big puddle covering herself in mud. Dean laughed at her expense as she tried to get the mud off—but it was everywhere: all over her pants, down her shirt, in her hair…among other places. The only way to get fully clean was to shower—and she wasn't up for showering naked outside in the rain, so the shower in the motel bathroom would have to make do. Elle walked into the room with her clothes and hair dripping with mud. Sam, who was still awake, took one look at her and burst out laughing. She narrowed her eyes before she threw the bag at him with his dinner in it.

"Enjoy your tossed salad," Elle commented as the container opened up and spilled salad over Sam's bed—and partly over him.

"Damnit, Elle," Sam hissed.

"I didn't know it was actually going to do that."

"You're going to clean this up right now."

"No, I'm actually going shower."

Elle then raced to the bathroom, making sure to grab her duffel bag on the way there. Sam was quickly behind her. If she could make it to the bathroom first and lock the door, she would be free. Elle slammed the door and locked it just in time as Sam practically body-slammed the door. Thankfully, the door didn't come off its hinges otherwise Dean would definitely be pissed with the extra charges. Elle smack-talked Sam from behind the bathroom door before catching a glimpse of how dirty she actually was. Her eyes almost looked like raccoon eyes with mud circling around them. She shook her head at her appearance before she turned the shower on. For being a motel, the water pressure was actually pretty good and the temperature was almost perfect. She stayed in the shower longer than normal because she knew that eventually Sam would get annoyed with the salad on his bed and clean up the mess himself. The longer she stayed in the shower the less likely it was that she had to clean the mess.

When Elle finally got out of the shower, the mirror was fogged up with steam. With her hand she wiped a small area so that she could examine her appearance once more to make sure the mud was gone. She then changed into an old baggy t-shirt that had been handed down from Dean to Sam to her and a pair of boxer shorts that had _not_ been handed down. Her wet dark hair hung down her back as she exited the bathroom and the steam followed behind her. Sam was sitting on his bed with his comforter thrown in the corner. He had a sour expression aimed at her to which she responded with an overly fake smile before she carefully sat on the roll-away bed which squeaked with every motion that she made. This bed was going to drive her insane, especially since she flailed when she slept. Elle pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack. She stopped at the picture she had drawn of the lake but Lucas Barr as scribbled something in black over it. She was still puzzled what the hell a giant bird or a pair of wings could mean. Everything else he had drawn had come true—and yet nothing had happened about this picture. Granted, he was pretty messed up after that accident—but still—something was just off about it. She flipped the page to a blank one, but she stared at it for five minutes with no idea what to put on the page. She looked over to Sam and Dean who sat there watching whatever crap was on television. Giving up on drawing and actually watching good television, Elle fell back on her pillow and quickly fell asleep.

It didn't take long for her to enter her dream world. Once again, she was brought to that isolated lake under the cover of nightfall in her subconscious. There were just stars, trees, and water for as far as she could see. A rough voice called her name: Campbell. Something inside Elle shuddered. The only person she knew who called her Campbell was her father and the way he said it, well, it seemed almost as if it were an insult. But this didn't sound like her father. Not even close. The voice didn't seem pissed-off enough to be John Winchester; but then again, in one's dream world anything could happen. Elle looked around the darkness for a face—or something creeping in the woods; but she didn't see anything. Then the name Campbell Winchester resounded through the air. Next thing she knew the dream was over. Her sleep for the rest of the night was dreamless and restless.

In the morning, Elle was rudely woken up by Dean pouring a cup of water on her face. Elle spluttered awake, gasping for breath and trying to get the water off her face. She tried to swat at Dean's hand to stop him; but he just kept lifting his arm higher and since he had a height advantage, the water didn't stop until the cup was fully empty. Elle was pissed off when she saw Dean standing there grinning from ear to ear and Sam sitting at the table slowly drinking from a disposable coffee cup. She stood up on the roll-away bed and snatched the cup from Dean; but she went crashing to the floor in the process because the roll-away bed had collapsed beneath her. This already was turning out to be a terrible morning; but she didn't want to jinx herself by saying that she didn't know how it could get any worse. Elle rolled onto her back while on the floor.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," Dean said with a grin.

"You're an ass," Elle hissed from the ground to her brothers. "And you're an ass for letting him do it."

"Ass? C'mon, Elle-Belle, be a little more original."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Elle mocked.

"Good morning to you too," Sam chuckled.

Elle shot Sam a glare before her eyes moved to the alarm clock. It was only six in the morning. Her brothers knew better than to wake her up before seven a.m. What was one more hour going to hurt? Now she was going to be grouchy all day and it was Dean's fault. She picked herself off the floor and moved to go to the bathroom, but Dean's arm grabbed hers.

"Something came up while you were asleep," Dean said.

"Like what?" Elle said regaining possession of her arm.

"Like Dean almost murdered me the weapons he sleeps with," Sam added.

"I did not. I stopped before it even got close to that," Dean shot back.

"Is that what you really woke me up for?" Elle groaned.

"No, we woke you up because we gotta hit the road. We got a case."

"A case? Where?"

"Pennsylvania. You remember Jerry Panowski from a couple years back?"

"Panowski," Elle repeated.

She walked over to her backpack and pulled out a sketchbook that had been completely filled. She flipped through the pages until she found the name Panowski. A poltergeist. Those things were creepy—as were most of the things they dealt with; but these things manifested themselves by moving and influencing inanimate objects. Jerry and his poor family had been scared out of their minds. But that particular one had been rather vicious. John had been extremely pissed-off by the objects it chose to take over—which left him in a foul mood when it came to her and Dean as well—more so her.

"Is it back?" Elle asked Dean.

"No, but Jerry thinks it could be worse," Dean responded.

"Like what?"

"Wouldn't say. Just asked if we could talk in person. Which means we need to hit the road."

"How do you expect me to function at this hour?"

"I got you a hot chocolate," Sam said looking up from the newspaper he was reading and pointing to the cup on the table. "But I'll be nice and I won't throw it at you."

"I told you it was an accident."

"Just hurry up and get ready before Dean decides to almost murder you too."

"Really?" Dean muttered.

Thankfully, Elle wasn't one of those girls who took forever to get ready. She brushed her hair and teeth, but on a tiny bit of mascara before she dressed in one of her plaid shirts, jeans, and grey Ugg boots because her blue Converse sneakers were still muddy from the night before. Dean always called those boots _Uggly_; but Elle didn't really care. They were comfortable and kept her feet warm, which in her mind was the part of her body that regulated her body temperature. If her feet were cold, then so was the rest of her. If they were comfortable, then so was the rest of her. In a grand total of twenty minutes, the Winchesters were out of the room and on the road headed toward Pennsylvania. From the backseat, Elle drank the hot chocolate Sam had gotten for her. It was a little cold for her liking; but it was still sweet of Sam to remember that she liked hot chocolate for her caffeine intake.

When they finally arrived at their destination, they walked over to the airplane hangar where Jerry said to meet him. He vouched for them to get through the minimal security before he motioned for them to follow him through the hangar to his office. Sam, Dean, and Elle followed the man who seemed a bit paranoid. Once you entered the world of the supernatural, your life was forever changed. Elle sometimes wondered if life was better being completely oblivious to what was out there; but that would never be an option for her unless she somehow had her memories completely wiped and the creatures out there didn't know she was a Winchester. As Jerry led the way, he turned his head back now and then to talk to them.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. It really ought to be me doing you guys a favor, not the other way around," Jerry said before he turned to Sam. "Elle, Dean, and your Dad really helped me out a couple years ago."

"Yeah, Dean told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam responded.

A random person must have been somewhat listening to their conversation because he shouted that he loved the movie _Poltergeist._

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking," Jerry shouted at the man before he turned around and lowered his voice a bit. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive."

"The drawer full of knives flying around the kitchen was probably the worst part. Seemed like a freaking horror movie," Elle commented.

"Worse. Sam, your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off," Sam responded.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

That thought stung at Elle's heart. She remembered that. John had talked about Sam more times than he even attempted to talk to her or about her combined. She didn't understand why he acted the way that he did toward her. The only thing she could figure out was that she was a girl and like Dean had told her, she had her mother's eyes. But now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in herself. She needed to pay attention to the conversation if she was going to be any help. But she didn't really focus on the conversation again until they were in Jerry's office. Apparently, he had something that he needed them to listen to and Elle could tell by his tone that whatever was that sound clip scared the shit out of the guy. Jerry sat down at his desk and motioned toward the two chairs in front of his desk. It sort of felt like going to the principal's office on the first day of school or something. Elle opted to stand, letting her brothers sit down. Jerry cleared his throat as he put a CD into a drive before he gave an introduction to about what they were about to hear.

"Now normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The recording started. The pilot was shouting "Mayday!" for help from air traffic control. The pilot assumed that there was some sort of mechanical failure when there was a loud whooshing sound and growling. Elle bit her nails as Jerry continued to explain the situation after the clip. Apparently, they crashed two hundred miles south of their current location. Somehow the cabin depressurized—only no one knew how. Elle wasn't an expert on airplanes by any means; but if it depressurized it would seem like a mechanical failure—but after hearing that sound at the end of the clip, it could be almost anything up their alley. Jerry continued that out of over a hundred passengers on board—only seven got out alive. Honestly, that was more than Elle anticipated. Usually one didn't hear about survivors with those types of crashes. But then the case took a personal turn for Jerry. The pilot, Chuck Lambert, was one of Jerry's good friends. If this was personal for someone—things could get ugly and quick. But Elle did know that Jerry was a decent guy. He had actually been nice to her the last time she saw him. Hell, he had talked with her more than her father did on that hunting trip.

"Chuck is—uh—well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault," Jerry added.

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't."

There was a moment of silence when the Winchesters looked to each other. Elle leaned forward so her face was near her brothers' ears so that they could have a bit of a private conversation.

"What do you think?" Dean asked Elle.

"This sounds like our kind of creepy," Elle whispered.

"I agree."

"Me too," Sam said before clearing his throat. "Uh—Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors."

"All right," Jerry said with a nod of his head.

"And is there any way we can—uh—take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage—fellas, Elle, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. Now way I've got that kind of clearance."

"We understand," Elle said as Dean furrowed his brow.

"No problem," Dean said, clearly lying through his teeth.

"We'll—uh—just take what we can get," Sam finished.

"What he said."

Could Dean be any more obvious? Elle flicked him on the back of the head while Jerry was busy gathering the passenger manifests and list of survivors. She knew that one way or another they were going to get to that wreckage—and it was probably going to be highly illegal. Every once in a while that fact bothered her—but she had grown so numb to the black and white picture that almost everything was grey. Jerry took the CD out of the drive and put it into a case before he handed it and manila file folders over to Dean. Dean in turn passed it on for to Elle to carry. She rolled her eyes at his childish move before they told Jerry that they would update him on the situation once they had something substantial to go on. The Winchesters piled into the car and Dean drove them into the nearest town, claiming that he had an errand to run at the local Copy Jack. Elle knew that the only time Dean used that store was to make fake IDs; but she wasn't quite sure what other kind of ID badges they could possibly need. Dean walked inside, leaving Sam and Elle behind in the Impala—to cause less suspicion on what he was doing inside. Sam asked Elle to hand him everything Jerry had given them before he looked through it for a few moments.

"All right, do you wanna mess with the recording for EVP or make some phone calls?" Sam asked.

"Are you honestly asking me that question?" Elle asked.

"That's right—you hate talking on the phone."

"I don't hate it—I just don't enjoy it. I'd much rather do it face to face. I mean, I got embarrassed calling Bobby about—"

"I get it. I'll make the phone calls. Use your headphones though."

Sam handed Elle his laptop. She flashed her brother a smile as she set the computer on her lap before she reached for her bag to pull out her headphones. She plugged the headphones into the jack and put them over her ears before she reached her hand toward Sam. He put the CD over her index finger, somewhat like a ring. Then she put the thing in the laptop and opened a program to help her change the frequencies and edit the sound. While Elle played with the sound clip, Sammy made phone calls from the front seat—to whom she assumed were the survivors from the flight. Sam got out of the car to get some fresh air before he pounded on her window. Elle held up her index finger for him to give her a minute. She knew that Sam probably would have had this figured out by now; but she wasn't as savvy with editing sound clips as Sam. Just then, she got it. The voice managed to give her shivers as "no survivors" played through her headphones. Dean must have finally come out of the store because he and Sam slid into the Impala as Elle played the recording again.

"Creepy," Elle stated.

"What did you call me?" Dean asked.

"Not you. This."

Elle yanked the headphones out of the jack and replayed the clip for her brothers to hear the voice say "no survivors."

"That's definitely EVP," Sam commented.

"But what's with no survivors? There were seven survivors," Dean added.

"You've got me."

"Maybe we need to figure out what was talking before we figure out what it meant," Elle said.

"So then what are we thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers-," Sam said.

"Like I said earlier—creepy," Elle commented.

"Because you've obviously never seen worse," Dean said sarcastically.

"You're telling me that you never even get the slightest bit creeped out?"

"Like I told Sam this morning, no. Now, Sam, what were you saying?"

"Uh—or it could be something like flight 401," Sam said.

"Right, the one that crashed and then the airline salvaged some its parts and put 'em in other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and he copilot haunted those flights."

"Just a thought that it could be something similar."

"All right, so let's start with the survivors. Which one do you want to talk to first?"

"Third guy on the list: Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"The guy lives around here and if anyone saw anything weird, it was definitely him."

"What makes you say that?"

"When Elle was working on the EVP, I made a few phone calls. I talked to his mother and she told me where to find him: Riverview Psychiatric Hospital."

"What do you say we pay him a visit with our IDs?"

"New IDs?" Elle asked.

Dean smirked at Sam before he tossed it into the backseat before he put the car into drive. Elle searched the backseat, in the piles of the boys' clothes, her clothes, canisters of salt, her pillow, and her old sketchbooks—to try and find the ID Dean threw back there. She found beside an empty water bottle before she examined it. She was not amused. Dean had used a picture of her when she had been sleeping and apparently she was with the _Federal Bitch of Investigation._ Elle smacked Dean's arm and demanded that he give her the actual one. She had forgotten that every time Dean got new badges he always got her a joke one to annoy her and get a laugh. Dean laughed as Elle glared at him using the rearview mirror. She held out her hand for her new ID to which Dean responded by telling Sam to give it to her. Sam handed her a Homeland Security badge. They hadn't used that department yet—clever. Dean wasn't a complete idiot at times.

They arrived at Riverview Psychiatric Hospital and went inside to find Max. A nurse led them to Max's room and suggested that they go out into the garden because it was Max's scheduled time for fresh air. Max walked down the halls with a cane and led them to the garden. Honestly, from the little she had seen of the man, Max Jaffey didn't look crazy to her. Then again—maybe he just wasn't showing another personality or something yet. But she knew that it was probably whatever happened on the plane that was affecting his mental state. He couldn't process what had happened and assumed that it was his brain playing tricks on him. Funny how that was easier to believe than the truth.

"Now I don't understand what you're doing here. I already spoke with Homeland Security—and the FBI—and every damn agency I can think of." Max said as he leaned heavily against his cane.

"Right—uh—some new information has just come up," Dean responded.

"What new information? I've told you guys everything I know."

"Mr. Jaffey, please let us ask the questions," Elle interrupted.

"You're right, sorry."

"So—just before the plane went down, did you notice anything—unusual?" Sam asked.

"Like what?"

"You know—strange lights, weird noises, maybe," Elle said.

"Or voices? Any voices?" Dean added.

"No, nothing like that," Max said tensing up and looking in a different direction.

"Mr. Joffey—" Dean started.

"It's Jaffey," Max said simultaneously with Elle. Elle blushed at the eye contact she made with Max after she said it.

"Jaffery," Max repeated.

"Yeah—Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean asked to which Max responded with a nod. "Now can I ask why? I'm guessing it's not the food and the view."

"I was a stressed. I survived a plane crash. Do I really need another reason?"

"That's really what terrified you? What you're afraid of?"

"I—I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"That's usually a sign that he's hiding something," Elle commented.

"I agree. See, I think that he did see something up there. Something that we need to know," Dean added.

By this point, Max had been already walking away from them—well, more like hobbling away from them; but he stopped. The man stopped and sat down on the nearest bench. Dean sat down beside him and Elle knelt down beside him. She looked to Dean who nodded his head. She batted her eyelashes a couple of times before she opened her eyes a little wider than normal, forcing Max to get lost in her eyes. Elle reached for his hand, but he broke the connection by looking away. Elle backed away a bit, but she was still on her haunches as Sam stood on the other side of Max.

"Please," was all Elle said.

"No, no, I was—delusional. I was seeing things," Max groaned.

"It's okay. Just tell us what you _think_ you saw, please," Sam added.

"You have our word that whatever you tell us will stay between us. We won't tell anyone that you were our source," Elle said calmly, finally grasping the guy's hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Elle knew that she was manipulating the guy's emotions—but it was what she was good at. By acting like she was actually there for the person made it look like she cared—which made them trust her. She knew that once she was allowed physical contact, they usually broke. It was for their own good though. She needed to do it—in order to solve the cases. Just as long as she didn't have to do it too often—it could be emotionally draining being a master manipulator—or as Dean liked to call her a manipulative bitch with a heart. Just as Elle predicted, Max broke.

"I—I—There was…this—man. And, uh, he had these…eyes—these, uh—black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him—" Max broke before stopping suddenly.

"Saw him what?" Dean asked, as Elle gently rubbed a circle on Max's hand to urge him to continue.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's impossible right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on the door."

"This man—uh—did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked.

"What are you, nuts?"

"Don't answer that," Elle said looking right to Dean who had his mouth opened to speak.

"The guy was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

"I know this does _seem_ impossible," Elle responded. "But something tells me that maybe you weren't seeing something—that it actually happened."

"But where would a guy get that much strength?"

"Adrenaline rush?" Dean suggested with a shrug of his shoulders to which Elle responded with an icy glare before she turned back to Max.

"Please don't beat yourself up too much over this," Elle sighed. "You just need time to process this."

"And how does one process something like this?"

"Well—first of all, I'm gonna say that the people at this place are paid to diagnose you as crazy to get your money. But what do I know? I'm just with Homeland Security."

Max chuckled before Elle patted his hand and stood up straight on her feet. Sam and Dean were already on their feet staring at her. She rolled her eyes and headed toward the exit of the place. Dean couldn't help but tease her on the way to the Impala.

"Look at you wrapping them around your little finger and stringing them along."

"Learned it from you—I just don't sleep with them," Elle retorted.

"Ouch, that hurts," Dean said pretending to clutch his heart like Elle had just pierced it.

"It should, you're the first one I got wrapped around my little finger."

"Your voodoo jedi mind stuff doesn't work on me."

Elle cocked an eyebrow at her brother. Her eyes then suddenly got wide and her hands flew at her stomach as she began to scream and fall to the ground. Dean's face turned to concerned as he got to the ground and reached for his sister. He frantically called her name as he rolled her onto her back on his knees. She then stopped crying and started laughing with a huge grin on her face. Even Sam, who was momentarily scared, couldn't help but chuckled.

"You're not whipped at all," Sam laughed.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean muttered as he pushed Elle from his lap. "And don't go pointing fingers at me, Sammy. You were right behind me, meaning that if I'm whipped, you're whipped."

"Leave me out of this. This is between you and Elle."

"Oh no, you're in the middle of this."

"Score one for the _voodoo jedi mind_ powers," Elle smirked asked. "That name also doesn't make sense by the way."

"I'm leaving without you."

Dean then practically ran to the driver's door of the Impala. Elle scrambled to get to her feet when she heard the engine roar. She was barely in the car and hadn't even shut the door before Deal raced out of the parking lot. In the car, Sam looked at the passenger manifest to see who was sitting in from of Max. Apparently, the guy's name was George Phelps. Sam found his address, causing Dean to do a U-turn so they could head to his home and check things out. The Impala stopped in front of a rather nice looking house—not exactly a creepy lair type of place. Then again, things weren't always as they appeared. The three Winchesters stepped out of the car and followed the sidewalk to the front porch.

"Man, I don't care how strong you are—even yoked up on PCP or something. There's no way you can open up an emergency door on a flight," Dean said.

"Nothing human at least," Elle added.

"So maybe this guy—George—was something else. Maybe he's some kind of creature in human form," Sam argued.

"Does this really look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean questioned.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Sam said—speaking Elle's mind.

"Which is why we need a look beyond what we can see."

"And how are we gonna do that?" Elle asked. "Last time I checked, none of us had x-ray vision or any super powers."

"No, I was thinking something much more human. Elle, you got that camera in your bag?"

"Yeah—why?"

"Because you need to use the bathroom."

"No, I don't."

"When we get inside you do."

"Why can't you or Sam do the snooping?"

"Do Sam or I look like we have weak bladders?"

"Really? What does one with a weak bladder exactly look like?"

"Like a girl— you look a little more feminine than Samantha over there and as you've pointed out, my boobs aren't getting me anywhere."

Elle whipped out her camera and took a very unflattering picture of Dean, blinding him with the flash before she pressed the doorbell. Dean swatted his sister away but quickly stood upright when Mrs. Phelps answered the door. Her eyes were puffy—as if she had just recently been crying. The oldest Winchester sibling introduced them to the woman. She seemed hesitant to let them in at first, but she finally let them in her home and led them to the living room. Elle sat beside Mrs. Phelps on the couch, while Sam and Dean sat in chairs across from them. She had hardly had a seat when Dean made an obvious look to her. Without saying anything, she tried to tell him to give her a minute. Dean then cleared his throat with a look at her. Elle shook her head—not yet.

"Mrs. Phelps," Dean said. "Elle's been talking about needing to use a bathroom for the past hour. She's just too polite to say anything. Is it all right if she uses yours?"

Really?

"Oh—of course," Mrs. Phelps sighed. "George never got around to fixing the one down here. So it's upstairs and the first door on your right."

"Thank you," Elle said sweetly before she narrowed her eyes at her brother.

As Elle blocked Dean's view of Mrs. Phelps he mouthed _bowel movement_ to which Elle responded by sticking her tongue out at her brother. Sam was covering his mouth trying not to laugh. It wasn't the most mature thing, but it was all she could think of that Mrs. Phelps wouldn't see. With her bag slung around her shoulder, she headed upstairs. As she walked up the stairs nothing seemed out of place. There were pictures of a happy family. Pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Phelps at different places around the United States: Mount Rushmore, Washington D.C., Times Square—nothing seemed wrong with the pictures. They seemed genuinely happy. When Elle came to the bathroom door, she practically slammed it so that the sound would echo downstairs. She now had a few minutes to quietly snoop. She had her camera out to take pictures of anything out of the ordinary.

She walked down the hallway a bit and stopped outside their bedroom. The door was left open. Sometimes these people made things easy. She walked in. Again, nothing seemed off. There was a crucifix on the wall—nothing evil would stand for that, right? Elle stared at it for a moment. She wasn't sure how she felt about that whole deal. She knew that Dean thought it was a load of crap—but she knew Sam believed in God, angels—the whole nine yards. Elle wanted something to believe in—and when she was at her lowest points, she was pretty sure she did—but if there really was a God, why would he give her a life like this? She knew according to the Bible that everything was supposed to be part of God's plan or whatnot and in times of distress she got it—but at other times she overanalyzed things.

Elle quickly examined the other rooms—noticing nothing weird. She then quietly opened the bathroom door so that she could flush the toilet. She supposed if she had to find something weird about the place was that there were like 5 different kinds of toothpaste. But if she remembered correctly, Mrs. Phelps had said her husband had been a dentist when they walked in. Elle quickly flushed the toilet and headed back downstairs where Sam and Dean were still talking with Mrs. Phelps. Sam turned to look at her but she just shook her head. Dean must have noticed because he made a joke about needing to get her some laxatives once they left—which was met flat by Mrs. Phelps. Sam then thanked the woman for her cooperation and the Winchesters took their leave. Elle punched Dean in the arm for the laxative joke when they were almost to the car. When they were all in the car—they found out that the other found out nothing to help them. This meant they had to kick things up a notch. They needed to get inside the NTSB warehouse and view the wreckage. But first—they needed to look the part a little better. Well—at least Sam and Dean did. Elle knew that she was going to be the bait—the lookout. All she had to do was dress _hot_ as Dean said.

Dean parked the Impala outside _MORT'S for style_, muttering to himself. Elle was going to go inside and judge their apparel, but Dean banned her from going in. He knew her well enough to know that she was going to make fun of him. Granted, she was still probably going to make fun of him when he came out—but it was his way to lessen the blow of humiliation. Elle sat on the hood of the car with her sketchbook. She started to draw how uncomfortable Dean would look in a suit—although when he finally came out, her picture hardly did his awkwardness justice. Elle practically fell onto the hood of the car in laughter to which Dean responded by throwing his street clothes at her.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean groaned.

"No, you don't. You look like a—seventh grader at his first dance," Sam laughed.

"I would say that's an under exaggerating things," Elle smirked.

"Shut up," Dean hissed at hell before looking down at himself. "I hate this thing."

"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam questioned.

Elle laughed at her brother as he slammed the door behind him as he slid into the Impala. She jumped off the hood and headed to her backseat and Dean drove to the warehouse where the wreckage was being stored. They made sure to park the Impala just outside the gates, just in case something happened. This way they could still get away. Because something was always bound to go wrong. Sam and Dean went in first dressed in their suits and ties, impersonating Homeland Security. Elle waited outside for a few minutes, waiting for the all clear from Dean. Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean.

_Drop a button._

She looked down at her button-up plaid shirt and rolled her eyes. How many overprotective brothers intentionally asked their sisters to dress a little more suggestive? She unbuttoned one button as she walked toward the warehouse. As she walked closer she figured out exactly what story she was going to use. It was probably most distracting and time-consuming to play the ditzy damsel in distress—something she could pull off easily. She adjusted her shirt to make sure that an appropriate amount of cleavage was showing before she opened the door. Elle made her eyes water as she practically ran to the desk. The first thing the guy looked at was her boobs—Dean had called it. Elle fake sniffled which caused the guard to look up at her.

"How can I help you miss?" the man asked with a smile.

"My—my car broke down. This was the first place I could find because I couldn't call anyone since phone died. It's like I'm Amish or something. And I have absolutely no idea where I am. I should've paid more attention when I was learning about cars. I mean I know how to put gas in, check the oil—and my brother tried to teach me how to put a spare on, but he made me do it in flip flops and shorts on a muddy gravelly road—so I was pissed off and I don't remember what I'm supposed to do—" Elle rambled, forcing the tears to start flowing from her eyes.

"Hey—slow down there. No need for tears. You need to make a call?"

"Please? You have no idea how eternally grateful I'd be."

"It's just a phone. Go ahead and just tell me the number."

The man handed Elle the receiver of the telephone and she told him the number to dial. She had him call one of their backup phones. They'd have to get rid of it if it—but burn phones weren't that expensive these days. Elle acted like she was having a conversation with her father instead of just talking to her voicemail. She was in the middle of her "conversation" when two agents approached the desk wearing black suits. They took out their badges and the security guard was flabbergasted that these guys were Homeland Security too. Elle quickly set the phone down, muttered her thanks to the security guard, and practically ran out of the building. She made sure to text both Dean and Sam to get the hell out of there on her way out.

_Poughkeepsie. Five-oh._

Once she was outside, Elle ran as fast as she possibly could to the Impala. She knew Sam and Dean weren't far behind her—but they were still behind her nonetheless. Thankfully, Dean had thought far enough ahead to leave the keys in the ignition. Despite how much she hated driving; Elle knew she needed to be the getaway driver. She hoped into the driver's seat and put the car into drive. She drove closer to the warehouse where she spotted Sam and Dean trapped inside the gate that had just closed. Shit. Not good. But she knew that both of her brothers could climb it—just hopefully they were fast enough before security found them. Sam and Dean got over the fence without being noticed and Elle drove them away from the warehouse. Dean sat in the passenger's seat and Sam in the backseat with all her junk. Elle asked where she should drive to and Dean told her to take them to Jerry's office—he and Sam were going to explain what they had seen on the way there. Apparently, Dean's homemade EMF meter lit up like a Christmas tree and they had a sample of this yellow stuff in their possession for Jerry to examine. After Jerry examined the stuff he deduced that it was sulfur. Jerry had to leave to yell at an employee; but Elle kept her mouth shut until she was alone with her brothers.

"Sulfur?" This isn't good," Elle groaned.

"It's never exactly _good_," Dean said sarcastically.

"But sulfur most likely means—"

"Demonic possession," Sam finished for her.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch," Dean mused.

"If the guy was possessed, it's definitely possible."

"This goes beyond the typical movie stuff though," Elle started.

"You mean the floating over a bed or barfing up pea soup?" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah—that. I mean we've got to be dealing with something badass enough to possess a person to take down an airplane."

"Have either of you ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked.

Both Elle and Dean shook their heads no. This meant that they needed to do some research on their own. Sam and Dean walked out of the office, while Elle scribbled a note to Jerry letting him know that they would be in touch. When they finally found a motel—there wasn't even the usual fight for the bed claim. Instead, they got right to work on researching everything they possible could. They were in research mode for hours. They figured if they took turns with one of them sleeping at a time they could cover more ground instead of having them all take a break and sleep at once. It had been Elle's turn to sleep when Sam stumbled upon a theory. Sam threw a book at her, startling her and waking her up. She was still half asleep as Sam began to explain his theory—how every religion has some sort of concept of demons and demonic possession. Elle yawned at that point because for the hours they had spent researching, they hadn't found a single one that described something like what they were dealing with—but apparently Sam found something. According to Sam, the Japanese believe that certain demons were behind certain disasters man-made and natural. One caused earthquakes. One caused disease. The list went on. But causing plane crashes? It would have had to evolve over time—which was what Dean guessed. In a way, it was the only thing that made any sense. But Elle wasn't sure that she wanted to mess with an old demon. Even Dean wasn't so sure.

"This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't' want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah, man. Me too," Sam added.

"Me three," Elle sighed—despite how much she knew the man wouldn't want to see her—he would know better than anyone what to do in this situation.

Dean's phone began to ring and he answered it. He was talking to Jerry—and it didn't sound good. When Dean finally hung up the phone, he sighed and looked to his siblings.

"Another one?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Let's go," Dean said slowly standing up.

"Where are we going?" Elle asked slipping a t-shirt on over her tank top.

"Nazareth."

"Like Jesus Nazareth?"

"No, there's one just down the road."

"Huh—ironic."

The Impala headed down the road west to Nazareth. As they drew closer to the town, the black smoke became more and more visible. Dean pulled the car behind a cop car before he pulled the Homeland Security badges out of the glove compartment. He made sure that Elle had her camera so that she could take some pictures for their personal use because it would be years before they saw anything released. While Sam and Dean handled talking with the other officers and taking samples, Elle took pictures of the scene. According to Sam and Dean—while this plane was much smaller, the debris and what looked like sulfur residue were almost exactly like the other plane. Sam's theory seemed to be holding up, which none of the Winchester siblings were excited about. When they got back to Jerry he confirmed their suspicions of sulfur residue found on the aircraft. Elle had been looking at the reports when something clicked. 40. That number had not only occurred on their current cases, but in at least six crashes that she had researched earlier.

"Guys, I think I got something," Elle said.

"What?" Sam and Dean asked simultaneously.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into his flight."

"And?" Dean asked.

"So did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes—that would make sense," Sam said.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry questioned. Elle had almost forgotten that he was still with them.

"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days," Dean started.

"The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years—killing off all those who had been freed from Egyptian slavery before they were allowed to enter the Promised Land. Well, all but Joshua and Caleb," Elle added.

"Exactly—the number means death."

"And if you compare it to these reports—"

Elle pulled out the manila files from her research out of her bag. She put them on the table as Sam snatched them and quickly rifled through them as Dean failed to look over his shoulder. A few moments later, Sam set the files down and shook his head.

"These go back a decade. Six crashes that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam commented.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked.

"No," Elle answered for him.

"Well—not until now at least. Not until flight 2485. Remember what the voice on the cockpit recording said?" Sam finished.

"No survivors," Dean deduced. "This means that it's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."

"So Final Destination," Elle groaned.

"What's that?" Dean questioned.

"You don't wanna know man," Sam chuckled. "But we gotta go, Jerry. We'll let you know if we find out anything more."

Dean drove the Impala as Sam and Elle did something that Elle hated doing—making phone calls. They had to call the survivors and make sure that none of them were planning on flying any time soon. Just in case an intervention was needed, Dean was speeding toward the nearest airport. Elle hated making awkward phone calls—if she was awkward in person—she was even more awkward and overly polite on the phone. Not to mention that Dean would make fun of her after every phone call she finished. Elle just hung up with Blaine Sanderson—who might never fly again—when she dialed the number for Amanda Walker. A woman answered—but it wasn't Amanda. It was her sister Karen. Apparently, Amanda was already at the airport for her flight from Indianapolis that left at eight pm. It was also the woman's first night back on the job. Elle hung up the phone.

"Shit!" Elle shouted.

"What?" Dean questioned.

"Amanda Walker's plane leaves from Indianapolis at eight."

"That sounds like just our luck."

"Guys that's a five hour drive, even with Dean behind the wheel—" Sam started.

"So what, we don't try?" Elle asked.

"I didn't say that. Try calling her cellphone again."

"I've already left like three messages. It's an airport. She probably has it turned off."

"God, we're never gonna make it."

"We'll make it if Baby and I have anything to say about it," Dean said as he pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal, causing them to speed more than they already were.

Somehow—by some stroke of luck—they made it to the Indianapolis airport by 7:10. Dean pulled a half-donut to get into a parking spot, which didn't sit well with Elle's stomach and the tacos she had eaten earlier. She felt sick the second Dean parked the Impala. As she got out of the car, she vomited on the asphalt and barely had time to spit out the bad taste before Dean yanked her by the arm as they ran toward the airport. Her head hurt as they ran. She really hoped they found Amanda soon—because she was going to be virtually useless trying to get over her motion sickness. They ran into the airport and found the signs that told when the planes were leaving from and what gate. They found Amanda's flight which thankfully didn't board for thirty minutes. Dean then suggested that they find a courtesy phone to call for Amanda. Dean picked up the phone.

"Hi. Gate thirteen," Dean said before waiting a moment. "I'm trying to contact Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight—uh—flight 4-2-4."

After a few seconds Amanda's name was paged over the intercom. Eventually, Amanda called Dean back. Dean played it off as he was a doctor and Amanda's sister Karen was there—saying she had been in a car crash. But the conversation must have gone south because Amanda didn't buy it. Elle could practically see Dean's brain scrambling—but then his tone changed. His back story completely changed—he seemed to be trying to persuade Amanda about some guy named Vince. Either way, Dean's plan hadn't worked. He angrily hung up the phone. Apparently, Amanda was still getting on that plane despite his attempt to persuade her otherwise.

"Damn it! So close!" Dean shouted.

"Now what?" Elle groaned, still feeling a little woozy.

"All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane," Sam responded.

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," Dean began.

"Yeah—hold on a second," Elle repeated.

"Guys—that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board and if we're right that plane is gonna crash," Sam stated.

"We know," Dean hissed.

"Okay. So we're getting on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You two get whatever you can out of the car. Whatever will make it through security. Let's meet back here in five minutes."

Neither Elle nor Dean moved.

"Are you two okay?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Elle said leaning against her knees.

"Not really," Dean added.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam questioned.

"I feel like I'm gonna barf—and if I get on that plane I'm gonna barf for sure," Elle groaned.

"There's medicine for that—what about you?"

"Well—you see—funny story really—I—uh—I kind of have this problem with—uh" Dean stammered.

"Flying?" Sam finished in a chuckled.

"It's never really been an issue until now."

"You've got to be joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"He's not joking," Elle murmured.

"Why else do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"It's true." Elle ran to the garbage can and tossed her cookies once more. Normally, she didn't get motion sickness this bad—it was probably because she was also stressed out. Stress was stupid.

"Looks like I'm doing this one on my own then," Sam suggested.

"I don't think so. The plane's gonna crash."

"There really isn't a third option—unless one of stays and one of us takes pukey. So, we all go—or I go by myself."

"Come on! Really? Man—"

"Just make sure that we get the Dramamine before we leave otherwise there might be the Exorcist barfing scene," Elle groaned from the trashcan.

Elle sat near the trashcan and barfed once more while Sam bought the tickets and Dean grabbed their duffel bags. They walked to the security checkpoint and passed through. Dean made a comment about feeling naked without his gun and knife hidden. Sam was trying to hurry them through and Elle was just trying to hold out until she finally had her medicine. But much to her dismay, Elle was chosen for a random search. She groaned as she was taken aside and patted down by a woman security guard. She was somewhat pissed. If they were gonna check anyone—it should have been Dean—but no. The hold-up had taken so long that it was time for them to board. There was no time to stop at a kiosk to get some Dramamine. Even though she felt somewhat normal as they stood in line to board, Elle had a feeling the vomiting sensation would be back once they took off. Sam suggested that she try drinking water—so he asked the flight attendant, who was not Amanda, right as they boarded the plane if they could have a bottle of water. The flight attendant graciously handed over the water as Sam led them down the aisle to their seats. Dean seemed almost paranoid as he looked down the plane which made Elle chuckle for a moment.

What a band of misfits they were—someone scared to fly, someone with motion sickness, and poor Sam. Elle's ticket said she was supposed to have the window seat, but she knew that being next to the window and seeing the world moving outside was bound to make her puke. Sam motioned for Dean to slide in, but Dean instantly stiffened and shook his head no. The younger Winchester brother muttered something as he slid into the seat by the window—followed by Elle and then Dean. Elle slowly sipped her water and tightly closed her eyes, trying to block out anything that might possibly make her sick. She turned her head and looked to Dean—who was anxiously reading the safety card as the flight attendants did one final sweep before departure.

"Guys, just try to relax," Sam chuckled.

"How about your just try to shut your pie hole," Dean grumbled.

"I'll second that," Elle muttered, trying to embrace herself for the inevitable.

The plane began to take off. Elle tried to bury her in her hands which rested on her knees. She tried to shut out the outside world and focus. She couldn't remember a single time in her life feeling this much motion sickness before. Although she had a suspicion that the tacos she had might have given her a food poisoning too. Either way, she knew the boys were never going to let her forget this. Since she had always been with Dean, she had never had a reason to fly before. Speaking of Dean, his knuckles where white from how tightly he was gripping the armrests. He practically jumped at every noise and movement change the plane made. Sam couldn't help but smirk. If Elle wasn't feeling to motion sick right now, she would have joined Sam. There was a burning sensation in her throat. She quickly reached for the barf bag in the seat back pocket—but there wasn't one in hers. She then leaned over for Dean's and her vomit barely made it in the bag. She looked up to see Dean's eyes wide in disgust.

"I knew I shouldn't have eaten those tacos," Elle groaned.

"Just keep that thing away from me," Dean said closing his eyes.

Elle rolled her eyes at her brother before she shoved her used barf bag in his seatback pocket. Dean just shook his head before he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Elle sipped on a little bit of water—feeling a little better. Maybe she just needed to get it out in order to feel better. Not seeing the flight attendant watching her, Elle pulled back the seatback tray so that she could rest on it. Sam poked her telling her that she wasn't supposed to be doing that—but she ignored him. Right now she just wanted to curl up in a ball and fall asleep. Stupid tacos. Stupid donuts. Stupid demon. Sam made fun of Dean for humming Metallica; but Dean claimed it was helping him stay calm. And as if the situation wasn't bad enough—Sam put things in perspective. They had exactly thirty-two minutes to find the thing and perform an exorcism. Easy enough, right?

"Now who is it possessing?" Sam asked.

"I would say Elle since we're barely ten minutes in and she barfed—" Dean started.

"But we need to be serious—one step at a time."

"The first step usually is to make fun of Elle."

"Thanks," Elle groaned sarcastically as Sam gave Dean a disappointed look.

"But I suppose it's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Amanda?" Elle asked.

"That would make sense. It's her first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty mess up," Sam responded.

Dean nodded his head and slightly relaxed enough to motion for the nearest flight attendant to come near them.

"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Dean asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh my mistake."

"Mm-hm."

"Can you—uh—dispose of this." Dean cringed as he picked up Elle's barf bag with two fingers.

"Are you not feeling well, hon?"

"No—I'm fine. It's actually my—uh—sister, pukey, over here."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," the woman said, not buying Dean's explanation. "I'll bring you a ginger ale for that tummy."

The woman walked away—without the barf bag. Dean frowned as he stuck the bag in the seatback in front of Elle before he turned to glare at her. But Elle's face was covered up by her arms, so she didn't see her oldest brother. Dean then looked to the back of the plane before he turned to facing forward again, tightly grasping the seat.

"All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there—so I'll go talk to her, and uh—get a read on her mental state," Dean said.

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that."

Dean pulled a Virgin Mary shaped water bottle out of his bag.

"I brought holy water."

"How the hell did you get that through security?" Elle questioned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No," Sam said as he snatched the holy water out of Dean's hands, to which Dean responded with a frown. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh," Dean said as he unclicked his seatbelt. "Nice."

Dean stood up to go.

"Hey," Sam whispered.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Say it in Latin."

"I know," Dean said as he left again.

"Okay," Sam said before he started when Dean was already a couple of rows back. "Hey!"

"What?" Dean hissed with a glare to Sam.

"Someone's grouchy," Elle muttered.

"Uh—in Latin, it's 'Christo,'" Sam said.

"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot! And Pukey, don't take my ginger ale."

Elle lifted her head and looked at Sam who was looking out the window as Dean walked away. She gently smacked Sam's arm so that he turned to look at her.

"You need my barf bag?" Sam asked.

"Funny, but no," Elle said rolling her eyes. Sam gave her a _then what do you want_ look. "What kind of Latin do they teach at Stanford?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"It's Christus—not Christo. I'm pretty sure Christo is Greek—or something."

"And where exactly did you learn Latin?"

"The Internet."

"Let me guess, Wikipedia? Very credible. Besides, Christo's worked before."

"When?"

"Not really important right now."

"Really? That's the excuse you're gonna use? Did you go hunting when you were at Stanford?"

"I've told that you multiple times that I wanted out."

"But saying that you wanted out is a lot different than actually being out."

"Does it really look like I was out hunting like you and Dean?"

"You're trying to turn the conversation back to Dean and I and off you. I may not have a college education, Sam, but I'm not stupid."

"Can we stay focused please?" Sam asked. "We can talk about this other thing later."

"If we survive you mean," Elle muttered.

Elle pushed her seat backward and rested her eyes. Of course it could potentially be the end of her life—and she was spending it arguing with Sam. Typical Winchester fashion—arguing until the point of death. Dean slouched back into his seat just as the other flight attendant brought him his ginger ale. He jokingly asked if there was anything a bit stronger, but the woman just smiled. He waited a moment before she was gone and then he leaned in closer to Elle for a private conversation with his siblings as he downed the soda which he wished were beer.

"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

"You said Christo?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her."

"Maybe it didn't work," Elle said glaring at Sam.

"No, it worked just fine," Sam retorted. "So that means if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere."

"Except for us because _Christo_ doesn't make us flinch," Elle said with a roll of her eyes.

The plane suddenly began to shake. Dean tightly gripped the armrests again, leaning his head back—trying to breathe slowly. Elle shut her eyes tightly and covered her mouth with her hands—just in case. Sam was the only one who seemed to take it for what it was—turbulence. The plane stopped shaking and Dean and Elle slowly went back to normal. Dean muttered something and Sam started treating him like a kid—which annoyed the hell out of Dean.

"Quit treating me like I'm friggin' four," Dean hissed.

"You need to calm down," Sam countered.

"Well, I'm sorry—I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have to. If you're panicked dude, you're wide open to demonic possession. So you need to calm yourself down right now."

"What demon would be stupid enough to possess Dean?" Elle scoffed.

"Hey, I've got plenty of fine qualities that a demon would like," Dean countered.

"Like what?"

"For starters—"

"Guys, this isn't the time for this. Life or death situation on our hands. We need to focus," Sam groaned.

"Fine," Elle and Dean muttered together.

"Good, glad we all agree on something—" Sam started.

"Probably for the last time in our lives," Dean added.

'Really?"

"Sorry—continue."

"Now I found this exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."

"Sounds Latin-y. Sure it's legit Latin?" Elle asked.

"I'm going to ignore that. Now, there's two parts to it. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest which actually makes if more powerful."

"More powerful?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"And how?"

"Well—it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"And how is that a good thing?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—I'm also failing to see how that's a good thing," Dean said.

"Because the second part sends the bastard straight back to hell once and for all," Sam finished.

"Why does everything have to be so damn complicated? Why can't you just say "to hell with you" and then poof, it's done?" Elle groaned.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

"It was rhetorical you ass."

"Right then—first things first, we got to find it," Dean said. "Luckily this made it through security."

Dean pulled out his EMF meter out of his bag and exhaled. He was still pretty terrified to be on the plane—that much was obvious, but keeping his mind occupied on other things like work was just the distraction he needed.

"Let's find this son-of-a-bitch."

"Don't forget, it could very well be a daughter-of—"Elle started.

"It's an expression, Elle. You don't have to correct me every damn time."

"Well, read this _expression_."

Elle flipped Dean the bird as he stood up. He shoved her hand down onto her tray table before he made his way to the back of the plane with his Walkman turned EMF meter. Elle sat there, sipping her water bottle as Sam watched Dean move up the aisle. Sam pushed her tray table up before he crawled over her and into the aisle. Elle stayed seated as she watched Sam walk up to Dean and clap him on the shoulder, scaring the crap out of him that he jumped. Dean made a motion that Elle should come over by them with his head. She groaned before she made her way up the aisle slowly, careful not to look out any of the windows which would make her sick.

"Did you guys figure it out?" Elle asked as she squeezed between Sam and Dean.

"Does it look like we figured it out?" Dean hissed.

"Then what do you need me for?"

"Because we only have fifteen minutes. We need to look over everyone again and find out who we missed," Sam responded.

"Maybe the thing just isn't on the plane?" Dean asked hopefully.

"You really believe that?"

"I will if you will."

"Since when have you been the optimistic one?" Elle questioned.

"Beats the alternative of thinking I'm going to die on this friggin plane."

Dean stopped for a moment as he looked down as his EMF meter spiked. Dean then looked to the front galley of the plane where the copilot came out of the bathroom and greeted a flight attendant before moving to head back into the cockpit.

"I take that back."

"Dean, what?" Elle asked.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Christo," Dean whispered.

"It's Christus," Elle muttered.

"I don't think _he_ really cares which one we use."

Dean looked to Sam and Elle, slowly motioning to the copilot with his head. The copilot's eyes went black—full on black. Shit. Definitely possessed. Of course it would be one of the guys that flies the freaking plane that would get possessed. But what sort of chink did the copilot have? Probably some serious addiction—like gambling would be Elle's guess. But really? Could the situation get any worse? Less than fifteen minutes to take down a copilot. Death was almost surely imminent. The copilot went into the cockpit and locked the door before the flight attendant moved to where the Winchesters were standing.

"Excuse me, federal safety regulations—" the flight attendant began.

"Yeah—not to congregate in the front of the aircraft," Elle finished.

"Don't remember them saying anything about the back," Dean responded.

The oldest Winchester pushed his baby sister toward the back of the plane despite her pleas just to sit down. No, all hands were needed on deck if they were going to get this demon situation fixed in under fifteen minutes. Sam even seemed to be dragging his feet—because Dean wanted to include Amanda in all this. He figured if anyone was gonna help them on this flight, it was going to be her.

"She's not gonna believe this," Sam argued.

"Twelve minutes, dude," Dean responded.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Elle muttered as her stomach lurched.

"Not until the demon's been exorcised."

"But if she fakes being sick—like you did to Dean earlier—it will help get us Amanda's attention," Sam said.

"It's not going to be 100% fake," Elle groaned.

Elle stopped a few feet shy of the back galley, doubled over and holding her stomach. Amanda instantly rushed to her aid and guided her to the back of the aircraft, helping her sit in the seat that was usually reserved for flight attendants during the descent. Elle closed her eyes as Amanda got down so that she was eye level with the young woman who seemed in distress.

"Are you going to be all right ma'am?" Amanda asked.

"Stupid tacos," Elle muttered.

"Just give her a barf bag and she'll be all right," Dean responded.

"I'm sorry that the flight's so bumpy."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Sam responded.

Sam looked around before he shut the curtain to the back galley. An old woman tried to come back to use the restroom, but Dean made a comment to the woman that she might not want to use the one in the back before he pointed to Elle. The older woman nodded knowingly. Then they were alone. Amanda looked around at the Winchesters: one about to hurl, one terrified out of his mind, one with a determined look—not the group one exactly wants to be stuck with. Despite feeling uncomfortable with the situation, Amanda continued with the concerned flight attendant act and a smile

"Um—what exactly can I do for you?" Amanda asked.

"All right this is—well, it's gonna sound nuts. But we don't really have time for the whole "the truth is out there' speech right now," Dean said.

"We really need you to just hear us—er—them, out," Elle said.

"Look, we know you were on flight 2485," Sam continued.

The smile that had been Amanda's face had vanished. She moved to take a step toward the curtain but Sam intercepted her. She moved to take a step toward the phone but Dean intercepted her. The blonde woman then took a step back so that she was pressed against the lavatory door—but after looking at Elle, she realized that probably wasn't the best place to be either. She centered herself between the three Winchesters.

"Who are you guys?" Amanda questioned.

"We just want to help," Elle responded.

"How is trapping me, helping me? You could be arrested when we land for this."

"We're just asking you to listen. Then decide for yourself."

"Decide what?"

"We've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know that something brought the plane down and there was no way in hell that it was mechanical failure," Sam said.

"What does that have to do with me right now?" Amanda questioned.

"Right now—we need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now," Dean answered.

"I did what you asked and I listened. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy. I have to get back to—"

Amanda tried to slide past Dean, but he stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just let me finish," Dean said calmly.

"What else could you possibly have to tell me?" Amanda questioned, getting nearer to the brink of tears.

"The pilot from flight 2485—Chuck Lambert, is dead," Elle said before exhaling deeply and focusing on her breathing once more.

"Wait. What? Chuck is dead?"

"Yeah—he died in a plane crash. Coincidence? I don't think so. I don't believe in coincidences. Two plane crashes in two months—with the same guy. Doesn't that strike you as strange?" Dean continued.

"I—I don't know," Amanda fumbled to find appropriate words to voice what she was feeling.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight too," Sam said.

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Dean begged.

"We don't have much time—" Sam started.

"Will you two stop being pathetic?" Elle groaned. "If she didn't believe you even a tiny bit, she would have already screamed or drawn attention to herself by now. She's still here."

"Oh," Sam and Dean muttered before looking to Amanda.

"On—on 2485, there was this man. He—he had these eyes," Amanda started.

"Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about," Sam insisted.

"I—I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

"The copilot, we need you to bring him back here," Dean responded.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Really don't have time to explain. We just need to uh—talk—to him, okay?"

In frustration, Amanda ran her fingers through her hair, which was pulled back, in frustration. You could tell that Amanda was really wrestling with doing the right thing. But it was also obvious that deep down, Amanda did know that something was wrong with this flight. Maybe she was putting two and two together about the copilot. Amanda then turned toward Dean.

"And how exactly am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot. It's regulation that—" Amanda began.

"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever it takes to get him out of that cockpit," Sam responded first.

"Tell him that you have a deathly ill passenger back here," Dean said pointing to Elle.

"I'm not deathly ill, Elle moaned. "I just ate some bad tacos."

"Considering Sam and I are fine, I'm pretty sure you're gonna die."

"Thanks, I appreciate the sympathy. Not that it makes a difference, but I think death by tacos is more awesome than a plane crash—but really, I'm not _that _sick."

"Well, then it's time to start acting it."

"You guys do realized that I could lose my job if you—" Amanda interrupted.

"You're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out," Dean said.

"He means dying," Elle said bluntly.

"Yeah, I got that," Amanda whispered. "Fine, I'll do it."

Amanda sighed, her confusion quite obvious but she left the back galley and headed for the cockpit anyway. Elle pushed herself through her dizziness. Her brother's needed her to do this. Besides, she couldn't let something as stupid as tacos be the reason she let a demon get away with murder. The Winchesters dug through Dean's bag. Sam pulled out the bottle of holy water that somehow made it through security. Dean pulled out their father's journal and Elle took hold of a salt container.

"What'd you do sweet talk security?" Elle asked Dean as she found some rock salt shotgun rounds.

"Something like that," Dean muttered.

"They're almost back here, everyone ready," Sam said as he switched Dean for the journal and handed his older brother the holy water.

The waited a few seconds and then the copilot stepped behind the curtain. Elle held the salt behind her back as the copilot looked to her first.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" the man asked.

"You are, you son-of-a-bitch," Dean said as he punched the man.

Amanda squealed as Dean's fist met the copilot's face, knocking the fully-grown man to the floor. Dean then pinned the man down and put duct tape over his mouth. The man was trying to get away; but Dean wasn't budging an inch. Sam stood there flipping through the pages, Elle poured salt in front of the emergency doors—to at least to attempt to slow the demon down and keep him away from the emergency exit like flight 2485. If only she could sprint to the cockpit door without making a big scene—to stop him from getting at the controls; but Elle was distracted by Amanda, who looked a bit frustrated. Elle tried to make a line of salt in front of the curtain but the Amanda was in her way, clearly not impressed nor willing to budge.

"You said you were just gonna talk to him," Amanda hissed.

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean responded.

Dean uncapped the holy water with his teeth before he splashed some on the man's skin. Elle had to turn away for a moment as the man's skin sizzled. She tried not to think of the actual human being the demon was occupying; but part of her wondered if this hurt the guy he was possessing. Could he feel everything that was being done to him? But Amanda squealed again and asked what was wrong with the man.

"Look, we need you calm," Sam said. "We need you calm outside the curtain."

"I—I don't understand—" Amanda started.

"Just don't let anybody in, okay?" Elle stood up, grasping Amanda's arm and making eye contact with her. "Can you do that, Amanda? Please?"

"Yeah—okay."

"And whatever you do, don't break this salt line."

Amanda nodded her head and walked back into the cabin of the plane. Elle salted in front of the curtain, hoping that they could at least keep the demon contained for a bit. Elle turned to see Dean struggling to keep the demon pinned down. Dean shouted for Sam to hurry up because he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep the guy pinned. Sam then began speaking the words to the exorcism. He was only a few words win when the demon managed to break free of Dean's grasp. The demon hit the holy water out of Dean's hands before he pushed him, then pushed Sam, and lastly he slapped Elle across the face sending her flying into the curtain. She slid under the curtain, breaking the salt line she had just made. Amanda looked down at her with eyes wide. Elle told the woman that everything was going peachy. Elle sat up, but she must have done so too fast because he head was spinning as she saw Dean on top of the demon once more and Sam started speaking again. Dean motioned for Elle to help him hold the thing down, but she was too slow moving that Dean got knocked off again. This time he, broke the salt line in front of the emergency exit. Looked like Elle's salt lines had been a complete waste of time. The demon ripped the tape from his mouth before he reached out and grabbed Sam by the collar.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" The demon hissed.

Elle could see the shock in Sam's face and without thinking twice about it, Elle lunged at the demon. She pushed Sam out of its grasp and pinned the thing down by straddling it. Even though she didn't weigh enough to keep the thing down permanently, she did manage to knock some of his wind out which helped her keep him pinned long enough for Sam to finish part one of the exorcism. Sam said his last words the copilot kicked John Winchester's journal out of his hands. But he was too late, Sam had finished the exorcism and the demon was being ousted from his human host. But the relief was only for a split second as the demon which now looked like black smoke disappeared into a vent.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked as Elle could only point to the vent.

"Shit. It's in the plane. We gotta hurry this up, Sammy," Dean grunted.

Sam pulled the journal back into the back galley. He had just opened it to the page he needed when the plane suddenly began to nose dive. The book flew out of Sam's hands and landed on the unconscious pilot's chest right in front of Elle. Sam had been thrown into the lavatory when the plane began to dive. With his big frame, he was struggling to get up and Dean was splayed against the emergency door screaming. Elle flipped a few pages before she found the page Sam had shown them earlier. She quickly found the spot where Sam left off before she began to finish off the exorcism. The plane began to shake, oxygen masks were popping down left and right, screaming erupted—but Elle finished the damn thing. There was a final jolt before the plane began to level out.

Elle began to breathe heavily, closing her eyes and clutching her stomach. But all of it was too much for her stomach to handle—literally. She puked all over the copilot. More like projectile vomited as Dean would recall later on—almost like the scene from the _Exorcist_. Except for the fact that the one possessed wasn't doing the puking. Dean even claimed that it was the same color as the movie. Elle's hands quickly moved to her mouth as her eyes widened.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Elle muttered. "If it's any consolation, I feel a little better now."

"I'm sure that's not going to make _him_ feel any better," Sam said shaking his head.

She awkwardly tried to wipe the foul smelling stuff from the man's face with her sleeve pulled over her hand without looking at him. Amanda opened up the curtain and helped Elle off the copilot and got some towels to clean the man up. The Winchesters all breathed a sigh of relief before they gathered their things and went back to their seats. Surprisingly, Elle didn't feel sick anymore. She had probably puked everything out that she possibly could. She then pulled out her sketchbook and found a blank page when Sam tapped her on the shoulder.

"Your Latin wasn't half bad," Sam said with a smile.

"Way to insult me, Internet Latin saved our asses, thank you very much," Elle said.

"Guys, we almost died back there. Can we not argue for—oh I don't know—the rest of this flight?" Dean groaned.

"Don't count on it."

Elle smirked at her oldest brother before he shook his head and leaned his seat back and attempted to go to sleep. When they disembarked the plane Paramedics, FBI agents, FAA agents, and probably the entire circus was waiting for them. Apparently all the trouble in the air wasn't exactly a secret. Elle cringed when she saw the copilot who was in a wheel chair, wrapped in a blanket, covered in dried vomit, being questioned by an FAA agent. An FBI agent was questioning Amanda when she mouthed the Winchesters as "thank you." But the Winchesters knew better than to stick around to answer questions. They were never going to believe what really happened anyway. Dean nodded his head toward the exit and said that they should get out of there. Elle sighed and walked between her brothers, wrapping an arm around each one of them, keeping them close to her because no matter how much they drove her crazy—these two lugs were the most important things in her life. Elle rested her head against Sam, when he stopped.

"Guys, it knew about Jessica," Sam said stopping.

"Sam these things, they read minds," Dean said. "They lie. All right? That's all it was."

"Besides, the most convincing lie is one that has truth in it, right?" Elle added.

"Yeah, you guys are probably right," Sam said.

Neither Dean nor Elle were completely convinced by Sam's words; but for once, they were willing just to take him at his word. They were in no way shape or form prepared to deal with the truth. They were exhausted; but Dean still drove them back—first to get the Impala-then to Jerry to let him know that the job was finished. Let him know that things might go back to _normal._ Jerry was very appreciative when the Winchesters walked in with the good news.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed," Jerry started as he shook each of their hands. First Sam's, then Dean's, and last Elle's. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Elle muttered.

"Your daddy might not show it, Elle—but a father always has a special place in his heart for his daughter."

"Yeah—sure."

She didn't buy what he was saying. If and only _if_ John Winchester had a place in his heart for Elle—it was probably a black spot. From years of experience, Elle knew that her father was incapable of loving her. She just wanted to know why—so that she could change things. But first, that would require finding the man. Dean then asked Jerry how he had gotten his cellphone number—which made sense because Dean had only had the number for like six months. Then there was the kicker: Jerry said that John Winchester had given it to them. Sam, Elle, and Dean looked to each other. Elle could feel her heart sink. He would get ahold of a guy they helped once but not his own flesh and blood?

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked—his voice somewhat strained.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call," Jerry responded, not thinking much of it. "Thanks again!"

They were just outside of the Impala when Dean pulled out his phone.

"This doesn't make any sense man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times," Sam said.

"We've all called him and never gotten through," Elle added.

" It's because it's been out of service."

Dean put the phone on speaker phone before he dialed the number for their father. Sure enough, just as Jerry had said, a message began to play.

_This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help._

That son-of-a-bitch. Really? Elle roughly slammed the car door to the Impala shut. She folded her arms across her chest in anger. Not only had he not contacted them—but he made not even a mention of her—or Sam, only Dean. As if that wasn't proof enough. At this point, she was so pissed that she really wasn't sure that she even wanted to find her father. She might accidentally murder him instead of getting the answers and love she so longed for. Dean turned the music on and drove down the highway. The siblings remained quiet, not even a complaint about the music. Although they didn't say it, their thoughts were all on the same thing—Dad.

* * *

**Author's Note** **Phew! We made it to the end…of this chapter! I'm not quitting on you yet. I hope you're all enjoying it enough to continue ready! Haha. So many little things being thrown your way—can't wait to get to tie some of them up. But as with any decent story (I'd say good, but mine isn't quite **_**that**_** good) it takes time. But anyway, I really appreciate all the **_**love**_** my little story is getting. Honestly, thank you so much to those of you who have read/reviewed/followed/favorited. It's making my jump into the Supernatural fandom quite enjoyable!**

**Nixdragon: **I think I've corrupted you to love OCs. Haha. We _may_ need psychological help, but I'm glad that you also feel that he needed a sister. In general, they left it so easy to add one. Probably part of the reason I so enjoy writing this story.

**TemperanceWinchesterPotter: **Thank you so much for your flattering review! Yeah—Dean teases her—immensely, which is exactly what a big brother does. Haha. Did you figure out what I was foreshadowing? It was done a bit more in this chapter—but only briefly.

**Marloweee1856: **Thank you so much! I enjoy writing the banter scenes between the siblings. I appreciate you saying that Sam and Dean stay in character for the most part. That's always the challenge as a writer—especially when you're adding an OC. But yeah, Elle fits so easily in with them that it makes it somewhat easy to write. (remember that I said somewhat haha.) As far as the drawing goes—do you have any guesses to what it is?

**Snnb7: **Thank you! I'm glad that you're enjoying Elle thus far. I hope you continue to enjoy reading about her.

**Guest(1): **Thanks! Hope it continues to be "good"

**Marshmallow Attack: **Yay! As far as the drawing goes—you might be on the right track. Haha. I'm gonna play somewhat coy and not give away too many spoilers, but I like your thoughts. I thought the exact same thing about the series needing a sister and voila here she is! Maybe not the best sisfic, but as long as someone likes it!

**Newageofmusic101:** Awww…that really means a lot to me that Elle is becoming one of your favorites. That was my only intention for this story—was to become _someone's_ favorite. So, I'm glad that my story is at least on your radar. I hope you enjoyed some more sibling fluff in this chapter. Thanks for taking the time to review!

**Huntress111111:** You're most welcome! Really, I enjoy making this and your review helped give me some more inspiration to write! As far as reviews go—I'm only five chapters in now. They'll come, right? Haha. And it's not all about reviews, I suppose. Just as long as someone likes it. And you do! So thanks! Don't worry about getting excited. I'm flattered that you get excited about my little story!

**Guest (2): **Thank you so much for the compliments! As far as future details-what do you wanna know? Haha. Some things I can give away—some I can't. haha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Aurora:**I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. I hope that you liked this one too! I love Elle and Dean moments too—but I had to give her some with Sam too. Haha. What other important characters do you refer to? Haha. I have a few in mind—and I already know. Lol. And as far as responding to your review goes—I enjoy doing it. Thanks for reviewing!


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